


Wedges of Ice and Air

by ADCurtis



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-07-08 05:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 56,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19864099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADCurtis/pseuds/ADCurtis
Summary: "This was the first time Aang had ever struck her in anger. He was appalled with himself. What had he done!" Jealousy, outside pressures, and poor choices drive a wedge between Aang and Katara, separating the two for years. Will they ever heal the wedges between them? Especially once one of them gets betrothed?





	1. Chapter 1

Aang had quite literally been out of his body before; many times in fact, while traveling in the spirit world. But nothing felt so wholly like an out-of-body experience as that kiss with Katara on the balcony of Iroh’s teashop. It was as though time really was an illusion, like it stood still and disappeared, like the earth dropped out from under him, leaving only this girl he loved wrapped tightly in his arms. His heart thumped faster than ever, but he didn’t register it. She loved him. She loved him back! She finally wanted him like he had always wanted her. And life could not get better.

But reality hit sometime not long after that magical kiss. They were young, and the world was still barely awakening to the idea of life without constant war. Aang was suddenly thrust into a role of world-rebuilder that he was far too young and inexperienced for. Suddenly he seemed to be needed everywhere at once. His days of roaming the world as he pleased seemed to be gone. 

With peace unfolding, people began to return to their homes. Chief Hakoda had to get back to his tribe, and he wanted his children with him. Katara, though old enough to fight battles all over the world during wartime, was still only 14 and in peacetime, that was deemed too young to live on her own. And admittedly part of her really was desperate to get back, to be with her family again at home. So she and Sokka returned with their Dad to the South Pole. She told Aang it wouldn’t be forever, just for a while, and that they would still be together, just apart for a little while. Aang visited as often as he could, but every time he did, he simply could not stay for long. The world had waited one hundred years for its Avatar’s return, and now that he was back, he was needed to forge balance again. 

Sometimes Katara had left the South Pole to travel with him. To Ba Sing Se, or the fire nation capital, or even back to the northern water tribe; but she would always ultimately return to the South Pole afterwards. Even though it was not as often as he would have liked, Aang loved when Katara would come with him in his travels. Being with Katara like that filled his heart with a completeness and a contentedness that he honestly had not felt since living with the monks at the Southern Air Temple as a child.

However one evening, shortly after Aang turned fifteen, Hakoda rounded a corner coming back home from the village center to find Katara pushed firmly up against a wall with the Avatar’s body pressed tightly against her, kissing her passionately, their open mouths locked hungrily. Aang’s hands had roamed all over her back and sides and in her hair while she folded both arms behind his neck, pulling him closer to her. Hakoda had stopped in his tracks, mouth open in surprise. And it was then that Hakoda changed his mind about letting Katara travel with Aang unaccompanied. That innocent twelve-year-old little boy had grown, and Hakoda didn’t trust him alone with his daughter anymore.

So Hakoda had placed limitations on Katara’s travels with Aang: not so frequent, not for so long, and no longer could they travel alone. Katara had balked and argued, but Hakoda had stood his ground; as stubborn as Katara could be, she got that trait strait from her father who could be just as immovable as she could when it came to what he felt was protecting his family. Sometimes Sokka had traveled with the two of them as chaperone, and once even Hakoda himself, but that had been awkward, with Aang on edge as Hakoda glared daggers into the back of his tattooed head while he steered Appa. So inevitably, with the inconvenience of these new rules, Katara just traveled less with Aang.

Although Hakoda was still civil with Aang, his warmth toward the boy had gradually plummeted to near freezing degrees. What Hakoda had once seen as a childhood fling between his daughter and the Avatar was clearly more serious than that, and he began to see all the ways the air bender could not give Katara what he wanted for her. Ultimately if Aang and Katara were to stay together, she would have to leave the South Pole. Aang’s vegetarian diet alone required that nearly everything he ate while in the South Pole had to be imported. And feeding Appa, the 10-ton herbivore with 5 stomachs, solely on food brought with him, was not a long-term solution. Add to this his role as the world’s Avatar? No, Aang simply could not settle down in the South Pole. 

Hakoda had other concerns beyond Aang taking his daughter away from the South. The air nomad culture was so foreign, and so ambiguously understood, that Hakoda had major concerns about their long-term compatibility. Aang had been raised by monks, after all, not in any semblance of a traditional family. What exactly did he have in mind with Hakoda’s daughter? Did he even plan to marry her? Almost all common knowledge of air nomad culture and traditions was gone, and Hakoda began to see more and more places where their backgrounds would come into conflict. As a nomad seeking un-attachment to worldly possessions, Aang was unlikely to provide a stable home for Katara; add that to his role as the Avatar, and instability, coupled with danger, multiplied. Hakoda respected the boy, and was ever grateful to him for his role in ending the war, but that in no way negated his concerns about him being what he considered a poor match for his daughter.

Hakoda began to mention some of his concerns to Katara. Just small comments here and there, most of which, Katara defended against adamantly with all her teenage indigence. But during the long stretches of Aang’s absences, some of her dad’s worries began to take seed in the back of her mind.

Katara herself first doubted their future together when Aang, somewhat casually, mentioned that the Air Nomad’s had no marriage rites at all, as they didn’t get married. Coming from a tribe of fiercely close family ties, she had been shocked to hear Aang drop that comment without a second thought. She could not imagine a culture without families, and at that moment as she looked at him, he felt so foreign to her. 

Sure she had always known that Aang had been raised by monks at a temple monastery. But it was difficult for her to fathom that he was okay with never knowing his mother, and even more, that his mother was somehow okay with giving him away to be raised by the community. No marriage ceremonies. No families. No official earthy ties. She could not relate to that. And what about her? What did this mean for her future with him? She knew she wanted a husband and a family. Before she had met Aang she had always imagined being married to a water tribe man, gathering her family close around her wrapped in furs by the fire on the long dark nights in the South Pole, telling stories and singing lullabies her own mother had sung to her. It was harder to picture this future with Aang.

And once this doubt had entered her mind, she began to notice more ways she would have to choose between her culture, her tribe, and being with Aang. Most all of the tribe’s biggest celebrations and festivals centered around annual hunts: from ice fishing for seal-tigers, to the great open ocean walrus-whale hunt, to the three week long hunt into the arctic for Cari-moose and giant polar bear-wolves. Aang would clearly not participate in the hunting nor the feasting that came as a result of them. But these traditions were sacred and important to her people. Would Aang approve of his children one day participating? Or would she end up losing her culture for herself, and one day for her children also? 

And although they never talked about it, Katara was also aware of the burden Aang carried as the last of his kind. One day he would need to have air bender children. And they would need to carry forward the whole of Air Nomad culture. Was she okay with the pressure that would place on her to mother these children? And would Aang’s culture always need to trump her own, since their children would be the only living representatives of the lost fourth nation? As a child of water, she was adaptable. But would she ultimately end up adapting right out of her heritage?

Still, she tried not dwell on these worries often. She was too happy and in love. Only occasionally would these worries prick her with doubt. These concerns were reserved only for long nights alone when sleep evaded her. Not for when she was with Aang. Whenever he was there, these concerns were always far, far away. When they were together she just basked in his playful antics and ready laugh, soaking up the way he looked at her with unadulterated adoration, thrilling in the exultant vibrations that being close to him sent through her. He loved her, and she loved him, and the rest would work itself out. Right?

However, over the years other complications from being involved in a long-distance relationship had occasionally arisen. There had been more than one boy to show more than casual interest in Katara. She didn’t always know what to do with this attention. It was no secret she was in a relationship with the Avatar, but this did not seem to deter some of the bolder ones. Hakoda was at least impartial with his protectiveness – it wasn’t just the Avatar he wanted to keep distance from his daughter. So all of these boys were given the same cold reception from both her father and her older brother; Sokka going so far as to actually make one unlucky fellow his boomerang target practice when he caught the boy leaning in too close (in his opinion) to Katara while they talked at the village center fountain. And Katara could take care of herself. But still, sometimes it was awkward to always site a boyfriend who was next to never there. It could be lonely. And sometimes she really did just need a friend.

Around the time of Katara’s eighteenth birthday, she began spending time with a new friend, an older Water Tribe bender from the North named Urik. She had become good friends with Urik’s younger sister, Alikka, while doing some post-war ambassador work with Aang at the North Pole. While Aang met with Chief Arnook, Katara had taught a few lessons to Allika’s all-girl waterbending class as a visiting master instructor. The two girls had hit it off, becoming fast friends. Alikka was a short, tenacious girl who was already a talented healer prior to Katara’s infamous bending battle with Master Pakku. Once Pakku started allowing other girls to learn more than just healing, Alikka was one of the first to eagerly sign up to learn waterbending. Even though girls and boys were still taught separately (once there was more than just one girl to teach), Katara felt proud to have been a part of the progress made for female waterbenders in the North. 

Some time later, upon returning from a conference she had attended with Aang and Sokka in Ba Sing Sei (although Aang himself couldn’t return with her at that time), Katara was happy to find that Alikka’s family had moved to the South Pole on Pakku’s request, to help with reconstruction. It was then that Katara had met Allika’s older brother, Urik. The three of them spent time together working on waterbending projects to rebuild the village, often going out together afterward in the evenings. Sometimes Sokka would join them, and it felt nice to have friends to hang out with like a normal teenager.

She knew that Urik was attractive, although she thought of him as just a friend, a good sparring partner, and a great listening ear. She knew he liked her, and she was flattered, but had been clear about her relationship with Aang (although lately, with all the time spent apart from each other, she had felt less sure about what that relationship really was). Urik was charming, but respectful, and even though she didn’t always know what to do with his occasional coy comments and casual flirtations, she enjoyed his company. She wasn’t flirting back, now was she? Just spending time with a friend who helped her improve her bending, and to forget for short periods of time how much she missed Aang. Urik was a lot of fun and a very good friend, so so what if she liked his attention? It beat pining away in loneliness during Aang’s long absences.

Aang also had plenty of experience rebuffing the advances of other girls. It was never a question of loyalty, since for him, Katara was always his one and only. But it didn’t stop young ladies (and their aspiring families) from trying to discretely push their way into romantic favor with him. Awkward and stuttering, he eventually managed to evade these compromising situations (even if it meant hiding up in the rafters or perhaps behind Zuko’s chair). But after he turned sixteen years old, it seemed that these encounters only increased in frequency and blatancy. 

Until one evening, Aang was caught kissing General How’s youngest daughter in the middle of a solstice celebration banquet. It was a known fact that Aang loved to dance, and so shamelessly showing off on the dance floor was not unlike him. And what was that drink they had served at dinner? He wasn’t sure, but he felt a bit giddy and even lighter on his feet that usual. However when one of his dance partners, the general’s pretty daughter, pulled him laughing into a heated kiss, he hardly knew what was even happening before the gossip had spread like wildfire. 

Variations and bloated versions of the scandal began circulating, including talk of a betrothal. Other deviations claimed that he had left the party with her shortly afterward, even implying that perhaps the world would be graced with a new airbender before the year was up. Others inferred that the General’s daughter was not the only one to fall for the Avatar’s charms. Eventually these stories made their way down to the South Pole. 

Katara first overheard the story of the Avatar’s ‘latest fling’ while shopping in the village square. Two trade boats had just arrived that morning from the Earth Kingdom with new goods and fresh gossip. How much of these stories were based in truth? How much was blown out of proportion? Well Katara didn’t know, and even though she couldn’t believe some of the more outrageous accusations, it became clear to her that the “understanding” she and Aang had had was no longer understood by both of them. 

At first she was angry. But after the initial shock wore off, her anger gave way to embarrassment and pain. Aang had grown into a striking young man, charismatic and handsome. Of course women would be attracted to him. And here she was, tucked away in the Southern tip of the world, while Aang was socializing everyday with other girls. She ducked her head and hurried away from the small clusters of people discussing the scandal behind their hands with furtive glances her way. Katara found her stomach gripped with jealousy, and afterwards, just plain hurt. She hurried to get away from the village market as the tears welled in her eyes.

Just as she hastily rounded a corner, she bumped right into Urik. She looked up at him in surprise as her tears began to fall.

“Katara, what’s wrong?!”

But she found her throat choked on the answer, so instead she just walked into his comforting embrace. Urik held her while she cried, and softly stroked her hair. “Its okay Katara, I’m here for you.” And he was. 

There was a marked change in her interactions with Urik after that. She no longer decidedly declined his small advances. His flirtations were subtly returned in like kind. The next week, when they found themselves alone, he had grabbed her hand. And she didn’t take it back. However that evening, she had been riddled with conflict, feeling that she had broken Aang’s trust. Until the thought made her temper flared hot again, reminding her of his betrayals first. Still, after that day, she tried again to distance herself a bit from Urik.

But Urik was her friend, and he was persistent. And frankly he was there, when Aang was not. 

One evening about a month after the devastating rumor of Aang’s fling with the General’s daughter had crushed Katara’s heart, she and Urik were out practicing waterbending together on the ice planes just outside the village. Katara was showing him an advanced technique that involved creating an ice track while simultaneously skating across it. He didn’t have trouble making the track, but was having difficulty banking the turns properly to accommodate increased speeds of travel. The air was crisp and clear, and the sun was just setting over the horizon, washing the sky and ocean with rich hues of reds, yellows and orange.

“It’s more like this,” Katara instructed as she demonstrated again how to use the water to propel herself forward with more speed. She circled both arms up and in front of her chest, pushing one palm forward, the other one back as she lunged, skating a perfect small track and rounding back to where Urik stood. Urik’s eyes followed her graceful body until she arrived in front of him. “Beautiful,” he murmured, without taking his eyes from hers. Katara blushed at his gaze, and looked shyly to the side. “Urik…“ she timidly cautioned, tucking her hair loopy behind her ear. But he took one step toward her, grabbing her hand and gently pulling her closer to him. 

“No, I mean it. You’re beautiful, Katara.” Then he leaned down and caught her lips in a tender kiss. She froze. Her breath caught in her chest. Next thing she knew she found that she was kissing him back.

……………………………..

“We’re almost there, Appa!” 

The sun was setting painting the sky a beautiful crimson orange as Aang flew Appa towards the South Pole; the village he considered home just coming into view. It had been nearly six months since Aang’s last visit; almost half a year since he had seen Katara, and he ached to be with her again. Aang detested the long separations, but until he could finally marry Katara and whisk her away with him permanently, he had few options but to sneak away back to the pole as often as he could. However he found to his great frustration that he could not get away nearly as often as he wanted to. The South Pole was practically the end of the earth; certainly not a centralized location for convenient travel to and from. 

Aang inhaled a great breath of the cold arctic air. Felt like home. Because wherever she was, was home to him. And he could feel that she was close! Aang gave Appa’s reins a quick flick. “Lets pick up the pace, Buddy! I can’t wait to see her!”

Down below, Aang spotted a pair outside the village limits practicing waterbending. Looks like they were skating ice paths. He strained to see more clearly. Yup, definitely Katara! No one could skate an ice path as gracefully as she did. Aang urged Appa into a descent.

But as they flew closer, Aang began to notice more closely what was happening below. He knew Katara had not been alone, but he just now noticed she was out there with a man. Urik. Aang knew him and his sister, and knew that they were good friends of Katara. Aang’s eyes narrowed. What were they doing? Why was he standing so close to Katara? 

As they descended, the scene below came into perfect focus. What was Urik doing with his hands on Katara? How dare he pull her against him like that?! And then… Aang’s heart and breath stopped. He gulped, eyes wide and betrayed as he watched Katara kissing Urik. 

For a moment Aang felt light-headed, even squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head to clear the traitorous image, believing that when he opened his eyes again, it would have all been an illusion.

But it wasn’t. When he looked again, there they were, wrapped around each other kissing like they had no reason not to; like she wasn’t right now stabbing him in the back by being with another man! Jealously like red-hot anger flared in his young heart. He didn’t even wait for Appa to land, but launched himself off of the bison’s head plummeting toward the tête-à-tête below.

Aang landed heavily in a crouch on the ice a mere ten feet from the pair, rocking the ground in an angry wave that radiated out from him. Katara and Urik broke apart in surprise and in an effort to stay upright on the shifting ground.

Aang stood up, gripping his staff, shoulders still hunched forward in a predatory stance, glaring at the two of them. “Katara! What are you doing?! What’s happening here!” 

For a moment Katara just stood there, mouth open in a gape and eyes wide staring at Aang. Then she blinked a few times, shaking her head as if shaking off some spell. She looked over at Urik, who looked just as surprised as she felt. One hand drifted up and gently touched her lips, like she wasn’t sure what had just happened.

But Aang was not feeling patient. Shutting his eyes tight, he turned his head in an effort to keep his Avatar wrath in check; he had learned to control the Avatar State long ago, but it had been a while since he had felt this kind of visceral reaction. His Avatar spirit writhed within him, but he stamped down the surge of power and rage struggling to leap forward. 

Stomping two angry steps forward, he pointed his staff at her demanding again “What are you doing kissing Urik, Katara?!”

Urik was the first to find his voice. “It was me, Aang. I kissed her.”

That was enough. The usually gentle and peace-loving airbender, felt a bitter jealousy snap inside him. Who did he think he was?! Aang had lost everything: his whole nation, his childhood, everyone he had ever known and loved; he already had so little to claim as his own. Was it too much to want the love of this one girl to be for him alone? Who was Urik to take her away from him?!

Aang turned on Urik with rage, circling the bottom half of his staff he bent up a low swirling whirlwind that sucked Urik up by the legs and tossed him into the air. Then swinging the bottom end of his staff over his head and slamming it down, the winds followed suit, slamming Urik into the snow bellow with a thud. Aang breathed hard with righteous indignation, not even feeling any guilt at the sound Urik’s body made as it collided with the ground.

Urik lifted himself up on his hands, wiping his lip where it had busted open. And before Aang knew it, Urik was up and throwing water punches at the Avatar. From left and right, water shot up in punishing streams from the snow, attempting to pummel the Avatar. Aang barely managed to wave off the water as he stepped back, and then back again, warding off Urik’s attack. He brought up an ice shield just in time to block the ice shards that Urik sent his way. Then planting himself, he pushed the shield forward in an offensive attack, but Urik melted it into water parting on both sides of him. Urik bent the parted water back around and launched it heavily at Aang, which he barely dodged. That was it! Aang’s anger flared anew as he spun unto the air and commanded the winds to once again to pull Urik off his feet, then slam him into the ice; once, twice, and as he had him up and ready to slam him down a third time, he felt something grab his ankle and yank him back heavily to the ground. He looked down to see Katara’s waterwhip wrapped around his leg. Then he felt a stinging slap in the face from the whip in her other hand.

Aang sat stunned on the ice, bringing his hand up to his face to where Katara had whipped him. He felt blood on his cheek. What?! How had it come to this?

“How dare you, Aang?!” Katara seethed.

“Wha..? What do you mean?! How dare you go around behind my back like this? How long have you been cheating with this piece of scum?!” Aang spat as he gestured at Urik’s prone body. Anger still roared behind his ears, rational thought taking a back seat to the pain and betrayal he felt. 

“Urik is not scum. And you’re one to talk!” She shot back angrily. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, I wonder! Maybe about General How’s hussy of a daughter and how eager you were to get all over her in Ba Sing Se!”

Surprise crossed his face, before his eyebrows pulled tight in irritation. Vaguely he was aware of people gathering from the village. 

“Is that what you think?!” He turned from her in disgust. “You’re more disloyal than I thought if you so easily believe every idle lie that makes its way down to this god-forsaken block of ice.”

Affronted by his personal jab at both her character and her home, Katara’s eyes hardened. “So are you denying it?!”

“Why should I? It sounds like the all-knowing gossip chain has already convinced you of my treachery. And you…” Aang swallowed hard, blinking back angry tears. “You so easily believed it to be true.”

“Well what do you expect me to believe? When you abandon me down here!… leaving me for months at a time…” Then much quieter, but still in a biting tone Katara muttered something that sounded like “Air nomads… ‘no earthly attachments’… more like no grasp of loyalty…” 

“What?!” Aang turned back to her roaring. “You slander my people when not five minutes ago I caught you making out with another man?! You’re the one who knows nothing of loyalty! Fickle water tribe: adapting your way from one man to another without so much as a backward glance!”

Katara let out a growl, which morphed into a strangled sob. She furiously grabbed a huge wave of water from the ice and hurled it at Aang with all her might. He was knocked flat, soaking and dazed by the freezing assault. Without thinking he spun up and around, swinging his staff like a bat. The resulting air current knocked Katara ten feet backward as she fell hard on her side, skidding to the feet of the gathering crowd. 

Aang stood frozen, dumb-founded. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. His hands dropped his staff in disbelief. The clatter of his staff on the ice loud in his ears as everything else went silent.

Aang and Katara had sparred countless times before, battling to improve their bending and skills. Sometimes they got pretty competitive, but there had always been an underlying feeling of affection, even playfulness between them. This was the first time Aang had ever struck her in anger. And he was appalled with himself. Shame and regret like nothing he had ever tasted before rising in his mouth.

Just then Hakoda pushed his way from the back of the crowd, Sokka right beside him.

Aang jerkily stumbled a few steps towards Katara, hands out stretched in front of him as if in supplication. “Katara, I…”

But Sokka was on top of him tackling him to the ground before he knew what was happening. One fist punched his jaw, hard. “Aang?!” Sokka spat, “what the hell is wrong with you?! How dare you strike my sister!” 

Aang rubbed his jaw painfully, but looked right past Sokka, to Katara as she struggled to get up, her face wincing in pain, Hakoda gently grabbing her arms to help her stand. Her blue eyes looked at him with a stinging jolt of betrayal.

Again Aang struggled to get out from under Sokka, to get up and move toward her. “Katara! Oh spirits, what have I done?!”

But Hakoda protectively moved in front of his daughter, his striking blue eyes piercing Aang where he stood. His voice was icy as he commanded, “Get out! I want you out of here, Avatar. And don’t come back. You are no longer welcome in the South Pole.”

Sokka stepped back, letting Aang stumble to his feet. Aang’s shoulders slumped forward, hands outstretched as if begging. “Please… you don’t understand…”

“I know what I saw,” Hakoda spoke with absolute finality, “and I want you to turn around, get on your bison, and get out of here. I don’t care where you go, but you are to stay away from my daughter, do you understand, boy?”

For a brief moment Aang’s eyes locked with Katara’s; she was crying freely, her lower lip trembling uncontrollably. Her eyes radiated regret and betrayal, and something else… was it possible she could still have love in her eyes? Oh spirits, that almost made this worse…

Sokka picked up Aang’s staff and handed it to him, his blue eyes flinty. But the pleading look Aang gave him softened his gaze perceptively. Sokka whispered as he turned him around by his shoulders, “You better go, Buddy.”

On dead legs, Aang stumbled back to Appa, the banishing glares of all of the Southern Water Tribe on his back. And as he leadenly climbed onto Appa and turned to go, he was sure that he would never regret anything as much as he regretted this. 

What had he done?!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Katara had replayed that day in her mind hundreds of times.

What had been said. Who had acted first. The sight of Urik being pitched against the ice by Aang’s whirlwind. Her own whip slapping the face of the boy she loved. The look of stark betrayal in Aang’s eyes as he air-bent her away from him. How had things escalated so quickly…? 

Everything had seemed to go in slow motion afterwards… Aang flying away on Appa… Her Dad walking her home with an arm around her shoulders… going to bed in some sort of unbelieving stupor. 

When she woke the next morning, before she opened her eyes, she believed for one shining moment that it had all been a dream, that none of that had really happened: the kiss, her fight with Aang, her Dad’s banning him from the South Pole. But when she opened her eyes and tried to sit up, wincing at the pain up and down her right side where she had hit the ice after Aang had air-bent at her, awareness slowly sank into her stomach, and she knew that it hadn’t been a dream. Dropping her face in her hands, she was left with a whole slew of complicated emotions to work through.

Katara was angry. She had always had a hot temper, and when she thought about the events of the day before… her temper blazed, nostrils flaring in indignation. How could he do that?! Swoop down on her after 6 months of absence, and then to fight over her like a toddler over his favorite toy! Who was Aang to be gone for so long, expecting her to do nothing but pine away for his return!? This anger fed off of old wounds, since she had felt lonely and abandoned for a long time already.

And she felt hurt. Hurt that Aang could say those things. Hurt that he would strike her. It’s not like the two of them had never had any disagreements in the past. But usually in those cases Aang would quickly soften, apologize, and let her win. Aang hated conflict, especially conflict with her, and was almost overtly lenient with her. He had never intentionally hurt her with his words, and certainly had never hurt her physically. 

But beyond the anger and hurt, what Katara felt most was ashamed. Ashamed that she had kissed Urik. Ashamed that Aang had seen. Ashamed that she had fought him.

Yes she had believed that Aang wasn’t staying true to her, but did that really give her permission to kiss Urik? The kiss had not been expected or planned on her part, the fact that she had kissed him back still surprising her. But had she wanted to? Isn’t that why she hadn’t pulled away…? 

Katara felt profoundly confused. With or without the events of last night, Katara felt conflicted about her relationship with Aang, Urik notwithstanding. When she was younger, she had wanted nothing more than to marry the young Avatar and valiantly fight with him for the betterment of the world. But she had grown older, and she understood the world now in a way she had not then. A house divided against itself, cannot stand. Would she and Aang be capable of building a unified house together? Did they want the same things? Katara didn’t know, and perhaps this break is what she needed: time on her own to figure things out.

She pictured Aang’s face twisted in anger – like it had been when those sandbenders stole Appa all those years ago. Just as she could then, she could see through his rage this time too; see that he was hurting inside, that it was pain that caused him to lash out. Hurting him was unbearable.

But his actions had been inexcusable. What he had done to Urik! The way he had thrown her… All of it was just a nightmare. 

Or at least she wished it had been. If it had been a nightmare, then she could wake up.

………….

Aang had gone to the Southern Air Temple after his forced departure from the South Pole. He hadn’t really planned to. Maybe it was Appa who led him there, or something else instinctual within him that took him back to his childhood home. But whatever the reason, he was there now, seated on the crumbling railing of one of the temple’s many balconies looking out unseeing at the cold night.

It was quiet. He was alone.

Aang had always feared being alone. Not alone as in “no one else around”, because he didn’t mind time on his own. What Aang deeply feared was being alone as in “abandoned” and “isolated”. To have no one who knew him, who understood. He had felt so small and alone when he had woken from the iceberg and learned of the fate of his people, when he had discovered that he was the last airbender. 

But Katara had been there. She had kept him from drowning in it. She had saved his life in more ways than one, and he had loved her for it. Aang’s love for Katara was as much a part of him now as his airbending or his tattoos. But now he had lost her. 

Now he was truly alone.

…………..

Urik had shown up on her doorstep later that next morning, his arm in a sling, but thankfully not broken. A few darkening bruises and a split lip… All visible reminders of how her life had fallen apart yesterday.

“I came to see you, Katara… I came to tell you that I’m sorry for how things happened…” He paused and looked her in the eye, “But I’m not sorry I kissed you.”

Katara had slowly turned away, back into the house mumbling something about needing time.

Time for what?

Time moved forward, and in the following year Aang had written her a few letters, the first one arriving just a few days after that day. She had left it rolled up on her bedside table for 2 days, conflict clenching in her stomach every time she looked at it. When she finally decided to open it tears were falling down her cheeks before she even had the string untied… In it he had told her he was sorry. That he had never meant to hurt her. That he feared she would never forgive him…feared that he could never forgive himself. 

A few weeks later another scroll had come. The third came a month after that. Hakoda had eyed the scrolls warily, but didn’t say anything. In the fourth scroll Aang had asked her to come to him, to meet him on Kyoshi Island. He knew he wasn’t welcome in the South Pole, but could he please just see her? 

The last letter he sent was six months afterwards. He’d said that he knew that she didn’t love him anymore, but that he hoped that they could still be friends. He said that he hoped she could be happy. 

No matter how things had gotten muddled between them, Aang had been her best friend for so long, and she really had loved him…

So she didn’t fully understand why she couldn’t answer his letters. The first time she had sat down to write a reply, she had sat in front of an empty parchment for over an hour, glazed eyes gazing unfocused out the window. What do you say to someone who had changed your life as much as Aang had changed hers? What do you say when you are simultaneously desperate to see him, to hold him, and yet sure it would be the wrong choice?

And she had other complications. For months following her break-up with Aang, Katara had avoided Urik. She had painfully conflicting feelings toward the Avatar, and spending time with Urik panged with guilt. In most ways she had resigned herself to the fact that she and Aang were no longer together; part of her had felt that for a long time already. But she wasn’t ready to jump into another relationship. She wasn’t ready to “adapt from one man to another without a backward glance” as Aang had so heartlessly accused her.

Her Father’s words often came to her mind: cultural conflict, incompatibility, losing her identity, leaving her home. Maybe he was right after all. Maybe this was the painful break that they needed to be able to move on with their lives…?

And even though she never could put it into writing, Katara hoped that one day he could be happy too…

……………

Nothing in Aang’s life was private. 

The events at the South Pole had been devastating for him, in a deeply personal way. But as much as he wanted to hide his shameful behavior, and deal with his heartbreak on his own, the story of his losing it down South traveled far and wide. Speculation and story embellishments abounded. “Not that this story needs much embellishing, “ he thought bitterly, “it’s distressingly sensational as it is.”

Aang sighed hollowly. In just a few minutes’ time, how he pictured his future to be had cracked, fallen apart in his hands, and blown away on the wind like sand slipping through his grasping fingers. His dreams of Katara being with him always had been shattered in less than half an hour. 

Time marched on. Aang had sent Katara letters. He had asked her to forgive him. Asked her to meet with him. But she had never answered, like hollow pleadings shouted into the wind, the words lost out there, the wind never replying; and something hardened in his heart.

Aang had had a lot of time, years in fact by now, to consider what had gone wrong between him and Katara. He didn’t realize it until much later, but things had not been entirely as they should have been between them even before he had stumbled upon her kissing Urik.

They had both been so young when they had fallen in love. Not that being young made their love any less genuine, perhaps if anything, their feelings were even more authentic, being unmarred by societal expectations and prejudices. They weren’t concerned with the complications of status, image or taboos. They just felt what they felt, and they felt it fully. 

But they did lack experience, Aang far more so than even Katara.

Aang had not been raised in a community constructed around romantic love, although it certainly was a community of love. They had no single-family units, viewing instead everyone as brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, aunts and uncles, grandparents. When playing together, everyone lovingly called one another by family relationships: Aang would be Aang Ge (big brother Aang) to the smaller boys and Xiao Aang Di (little brother Aang) to the teenagers. Gyatso had be “Yeye” (grandpapa) to nearly everyone (except in private Aang had sometimes called him “Baba”, meaning “daddy”.) The Air Nomads had viewed individual families as possessive and closed. Were we not all brothers? Would we not give the clothes off our backs to any young child in need, whether he or she carried our genetics or not? Did not all deserve to be welcomed into the inside of the familial group? 

Over thousands of years, this openness and inclusiveness had led to unusual romantic views. The Air Nomads were romantic, sometimes hopelessly so. But their romances had been viewed more openly in terms of location and time together. Romantic links were seen more as spiritual bonds, not restricted by time and place. It was not uncommon for a man and a woman to be paired, to love each other deeply, and yet not to live together. In fact, couples that did live together were rare, as the temples themselves were gender segregated.

Honestly, Aang had had very little interest in romantic love when he had been a child living with the other airbenders. He was much more interested in playing airball with his friends, traveling the world with Gyatso, or getting into trouble with Bumi or Kuzon when he visited them. What he had gleaned about romance was more of passing observation, rather than any active interest or formal lessons. Perhaps there would have been more taught to him as he grew older? But he had been so young when the Air Nomads had been massacred… And now there was no one left to teach him…

There had been one day, when Aang had found Gyatso sorrowfully burning offerings on the balcony of his quarters. Aang had knelt with him and asked what he was doing, and why he was sad. The old monk had then told him of a nun who had lived at the Western Air Temple, named Ghihima, that he had loved nearly all of his life. That day had been the three-year anniversary of the day that she had passed into the Eternal Skies, and he was here honoring her, and grieving her loss. The young monk had questioned his mentor. “Ah, but my Xiao Aang Zi (“little Aang-son”),” Gyatso had gently chided, “It is indeed painful to grieve, but when we grieve we are celebrating that what we had, and lost, was a good thing. And my love for Ghihima was, in fact, the best thing in my life.” As he and Baba Gyatso watched the burned bits of consecrated papyrus floating out in offering into the wind, Aang had considered for the first time what it might mean to be in love.

And on the day Aang had awoken from the iceberg over one hundred years later, he had woken to the face of the most beautiful girl he could imagine. Quite suddenly he found that he cared about love. He wanted to know what it was, and how exactly did one do love? 

Aang had learned about love by observing the romantic relationships in the world as he traveled. He learned that you should give flowers to a girl you like (preferably panda lilies). That girls liked gifts, like the necklace he had made for Katara out of Sokka’s fishing line. Sokka had tried to give Aang advice on how to woo a woman, but Aang had found his advice confusing and counter-intuitive (although Aang had to admit that whatever Sokka did seemed to really work for him; the guy was a girl-magnet!). Aang had learned that barely touching lips with Katara in the Cave of Two Lovers had sent a jolt of pleasure through his whole body. (He had also learned in the Cave of Two Lovers that girls don’t want to kiss when they feel insulted…). He discovered that dancing with the girl you love feels like magic (flameo hotman!). Aang observed that the other three nations all had marriages. Love made one want to get married; but, like in the case of Princess Yue’s betrothal, marriage and love did not always go hand in hand. Through trial and error, Aang had learned that surprise kisses didn’t always go over well. Iroh had taught him that choosing power was not more valuable than choosing love and happiness. And Aang had found by glorious experience that sunsets made amazing backdrops for first real kisses…

After the war Aang had learned a lot more about love, and as Aang had grown and matured, he learned, more specifically, about physical expressions of love. Katara had been a great teacher, and he had been a very eager student. He discovered that holding her hand made his whole body warm. Her hair smelled like flowers and happiness as he ran his fingers through it (for someone with no hair of his own, he found he had an peculiar affinity for Katara’s). Aang had discovered the extreme thrill of lining his body up with Katara’s and eliminating the space between them. As he had grown taller and broader and she had grown slightly more pronounced curves, simple touches between them had resulted in loaded atmospheres and a deep-seeded longing that almost hurt. Her mouth could be intoxicating, and sometimes he would wind up drunk with pleasure from exploring it. (He had also learned that fathers did not like to see him do this.) 

But what he had realized most about love, was that Katara was it for him; she was his Forever Girl. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, to make her his wife, and to make their futures one.

But again, passion could not eliminate the value of experience. And as passionately as Aang had loved Katara, he had not realized until much later, when it was much too late, that he had neglected her. She had surely felt so lonely in the South Pole without him. He had likewise missed her desperately, but it had not occurred to his young teenage mind how he could take more active and frequent efforts to help her feel of his love. Send her a scroll. Make her a gift. Find more time to go to the village. Stay an extra day, or two there… Move heaven and earth to find a blasted chaperone to conform to that blasted father-induced rule so that Katara could join him as often as possible! Do whatever if takes to affirm to her that his feelings had not changed! He had thought that she had known that he loved her; but as her accusations about the General’s daughter had shown, he had needed to confirm his devotion to her more clearly and more often. There was so much more he could have, should have done… And now it was too late.

…………

Katara had seen Aang in person twice since their break. Once in Ba Sing Se just a year after their fall out in the South Pole. He had looked like he wanted to talk with her, but she found that her blood boiled anew thinking about his inexcusable behavior and subsequent hasty retreat that day. For some unexplainable reason, she was angry with him for leaving, angry he had not come back, fighting to keep her. And she was even more angry because she knew that it was her fault he hadn’t. With one look at him she was hit with the full force of a year’s worth of longing that she had tried to ignore. Katara’s inner emotional conflict resulted in avoided eye contact from her, her body language screaming unapproachable. After several stuttered and aborted attempts to muster his courage to talk to her, Aang sighed with resignation. He gave up on mending their rift, since Katara was so clearly not interested in continued contact between them.

The only other time they had seen each other in person since then was years later at a Fire Nation celebration. Aang had entered the palace ballroom tall and broad-shouldered, with a pretty little fire nation noble on his arm. Katara found that even after all this time, when she knew she had no claim on him anymore, the sight of him with that girl still stung. When they had locked gazes, his eyes opened wider momentarily, some mixture of emotions passing over his face before his jaw tightened and he deliberately looked away. He steered the girl to the opposite side of the dance floor, although Katara noticed that as they walked he removed the girl’s hand from his arm. Katara had not stayed at the celebration long afterwards, siting a headache and weariness from travel as reasons for her early departure. 

She had been surprised by how much Aang had changed in the years since she had seen him last. He was tall and strong now, the boyish softness on his face gone. His body had become toned from years of martial arts practice bending all the elements, although he still maintained the slim, agile build of a child of the Air. But his dark eyes were the same, animated and beautiful. But now they were full of accusation when he looked at her. And she knew she was guilty as charged.

………..

After resigning himself to the reality that Katara would never be his, Aang’s interactions with the opposite sex began to change. He had always liked people, and was very social by nature. The awkwardness of his youth had given way, allowing his natural charisma to shine, and people were drawn to him, women specifically. Aang had learned a lot about the world, and romance, since waking up form the iceberg. He could play this game better than before, although he never indulged in much more than playful flirtation. He couldn’t seem to get serious with any girl. Unconsciously, he compared everyone to Katara, and no one ever measured up.

But pressure for Aang to marry heightened significantly after a recent kidnapping scare. It wasn’t really much cause for concern in Aang’s book, just a group of rag-tag desperados who had happened to stumble upon Aang in the forest while he was meditating into the Spirit World. His spirit being in the Spirit World had left his body unattended and vulnerable. But these highwaymen had been unprepared and ill fit to hold the Avatar; they were mere opportunists, with no more sinister motives than to try to wheedle Zuko into paying blackmail money to get him back. Aang had awoken from his Spirit journey, tied and gagged in some sort of cave. It didn’t take long to free himself, spinning to standing with aid of his air-bending and then calling earth pikes up from the ground to break through his chains. Aang managed to apprehend four of his captors, the rest fleeing into the surrounding woods. 

The bandits had really only had him in their custody for less than 24 hours, having sent off their blackmail requests mere hours before Aang had awoken and freed himself. But the damage had been done. The details of his abduction were blown out of proportion, stirring a panic among many of the world leaders. Their main concern had not being that Aang was threatened as the Avatar, but instead that the world had come so close to loosing its last airbender, the sole surviving member of the fourth and nearly extinct nation. This event awoke an urgency in many of the world leaders to hasten the repopulation of the Air Nomad nation. Much to Aang’s discomfort, his intentions for producing offspring, and sooner rather than later, became a heated topic of political concern. Objectively, he understood and even shared in their concern for his nation; however, what this meant for his private life and future happiness was incredibly invasive and uncomfortable. 

At barely 20 years old, Aang found himself being presented with a long list of eligible ‘potential mothers to the next generation of airbenders’. Knowing how distasteful he found this, the politicians came up with as many creative ways to discretely set him up as possible, from assigned seating between noblemen’s daughters at banquets, to planned “chance” meetings with young women in the stables while he took care of Appa. All of the attention, and his subsequent evasions, tended to perpetuate the rumors that the Avatar had become a bit of a tease.

Aang started spending more and more time with Toph, if for no other reason than to ward off the advances of other women. At first Toph didn’t seem to mind; even taking her role as Aang’s suitor-shield to heart by grabbing onto his arm and peppering him with exaggerated (and backhanded) terms of endearment (“oh Twinkletoesie!” or “my Sweet Monkey Feathers”). However, all the time spent with his Earthbending Master produced unwanted gossip of its own. And once Toph’s very own mother began to believe the rumors and actively push her daughter into the Avatar’s arms, Toph put her foot down (and through the floor). Twinkletoes was going to have to go at this on his own, because Toph BeiFang was not going to belong to anyone, and her mother’s interference made her suddenly feel ‘all oogie’ about being seen with Aang like that. Their friendship remained, but Aang could no longer count on Toph to pose as a romantic buffer for him.

After that, Aang was left on his own to fend off the advances of Ambassadors’ daughters sat next to him, or to dance every dance with a new pretty face hoping to find his favor. But so few people seemed to see him: Aang. When these women looked at him they saw “the Great and Powerful Avatar”, not Aang himself. More than a little overwhelmed, Aang found himself frequently missing the simple love he had shared with Katara. What they had had together had been rooted in friendship and trust. What he wouldn’t give to be twelve and in love again? Although the world had been ravaged by war, his heart had only ever had one bright guiding star: Katara. She had literally saved his life, and given him hope in the face of the loss of everything he had known and loved. And even now, with all the complications and disagreements between them, Aang would be lying if he said he didn’t still long for Katara to be his again, to guide him as she had always done in their childhood.

………..

As the world’s most uniquely singular person, the Avatar was a common topic of discussion worldwide, people of the South Pole being no exception. Although she tried hard not to appear over-eager to seek out the latest news about him, Katara had heard enough to know the basics of what Aang had been up to for the last few years. 

She knew that he had started a community called the Air Acolytes: a group of Air Nomad enthusiasts, many of whose original members had come from the former ‘Avatar Aang Fan Club’, who were dedicating their lives to live after the manor of the Air Nomads of old, Avatar Aang leading and teaching them the traditions of his lost people. Despite the fact that none of the Air Acolytes were actual airbenders, having someone to pass the culture and traditions onto was an important step in reviving the fourth nation. The Acolytes had already started living at the Southern Air Temple with Aang. There was talk of soon restoring the Eastern Air Temple as well, at which point Acolytes would likely move there too. 

The Air Acolytes numbers were relatively small, and had a noticeably far greater percentage of women than men, giving rise to some speculating that the group was really just a cover for the Avatar’s haram. Some considered this actually to be a good idea, given the responsibility Avatar Aang had to repopulate the world with airbenders. But talk of it was always spoken of with conspiratorially raised eyebrows and whispered behind cupped hands with an air of scandal. Katara didn’t really believe this rumor, but who was she to know? The Air Nomads had had such foreign familial traditions; perhaps that kind of thing was not too far fetched? Although whenever she thought of Aang, she had difficulty swallowing that possibility. 

Katara did have some more reliable sources of information on Aang. As the World Representative of the Southern Water Tribe, Sokka had been in semi-regular contact with Aang and the other world leaders for years now. 

“Don’t believe everything you hear, Katara,” her brother admonished, “Aang’s still that same goofy kid who wanted to ride mail shoots and wouldn’t hurt a fly. He may look all grown up and impressive, but deep down, he’s still just the same as he always was.” And then he annoyingly added, “However… I’ve seen a few of those Acolytes, and some of them are pretty easy on the eyes, it wouldn’t take a lesser man than Aang to seriously consider taking advantage of that ratio difference!” 

Katara had huffed at his shallow remark and frozen his tea. Sokka could be such an idiot!

………..

Urik had moved back to the North Pole within six months of their kiss. Katara had given him no reason to stay.

When he left, she felt guilty, and sorry to have ruined their friendship. But she still needed to figure herself out.

But Katara was tenacious and driven. She didn’t sit around wallowing in self-pity and regret. She continued working with Pakku and Allika and others in rebuilding the village (although with all the help from the North, it was starting to look more like a city!). She continued to hone her waterbending skills, focusing on improving her healing skills as well, which she felt had a lot of room for improvement. And with caring for her aging Grandmother, Pakku, and her Dad and brother, there was plenty of work to be done. 

And as time went on, she eventually felt ready to start dating again. She was talented, beautiful, a celebrated war hero, and the only daughter of the Chief. She did not lack for men interested in courting her. And it was fun and a bit exciting, to think that perhaps sometime soon, the water tribe family she had imagined as a child might become a reality!

When she imagined her cozy future family, the children she could picture: warm-skinned dark haired babies, active toddlers running amuck. But she always had trouble putting an image with the man who would become her husband. Each person she dated, she tried to imagine him filling that role, and always it just didn’t fit. Unbidden images of her children laughing while riding an air-scooter with their father would pop into her mind, and she would quickly shake away the thoughts.

Katara had tried dating a few different men, from both tribes, but without much success. Knowing her dating history, many of the men she went out with felt the need to measure up to the Avatar (which in fact, although she didn’t admit that to herself, was true). Some men tried too hard, posturing to appear stronger and more confident; others suffered from feelings of inferiority, anxious that they weren’t meeting her expectations. 

She tried her best to be open to possibilities, but the more she dated, and made no real connections, the more restless she got. 

………..

Dating could be painful. And Aang had done a lot of it lately. It was difficult to go from a long-term, deeply committed relationship, one that he had hoped would last forever, to an endless string of first dates. The contrast was acute, and Aang often found himself aching for his relationship with Katara again, not just because of her, but because of the fulfillment that that kind of deeper relationship brought.

Over the last couple of years Aang had started training a group of Air Acolytes who had come to the Southern Air Temple to live and study. He found satisfaction being surrounded by people who genuinely wanted to learn the ways of his lost civilization. It was both rewarding to pass on his traditions, but also sometimes difficult, as teaching his culture and history to them was a constant reminder of how much had been lost. What had been a living, breathing way of life for him as a child, was now studied out of textbooks. Like learning a foreign language – the Acolytes could one day become conversant, but there was still a lot of mental translation happening as they grasped new ideas, practices and habits. It was not always easy to explain why the Air Nomads did things the way they did. “We just do.” Until Aang would mentally modify that sentence to “we just did” or perhaps “I just do.” There was no longer a present tense “we” for the airbenders…

But Aang valued the Air Acolytes, and was ever grateful for their sacrifices to help him keep his culture alive. He had great respect for each member of this small group of monks and nuns in training. They would ensure that the Air Nomads would have a part of the future.

Despite all the women Aang had been set up with in recent years, Aang had made it a personal rule not to date any of the Acolytes. He knew that could get really complicated really quick. There had been a few girls that had joined the Acolytes with the seeming sole motivation of pursuing him, which irritated Aang. He wanted to keep things professional and focused, so that only those who really wanted to honor his heritage were included among the Acolytes.

So he faced a bit of personal conflict when he started noticing a particular Acolyte girl named Cami. Not noticing like ‘seeing someone for the first time’, but noticing as in he began to find her attractive. 

Cami was about his age and had been studying as an Air Acolyte for over a year. She was smart and dedicated and loved his culture with eager enthusiasm. Cami was cute, and gentle and kind, and Aang found her easy and interesting to talk to. She was one of the few people Aang had found since traveling the world with Team Avatar during the war who saw Aang not just as the Avatar. She saw him as Aang, and she was his friend. She admired him for his bravery, but also for his playfulness with that cheeky touch of mischief. She also knew that behind his optimistic exterior there was a deep underlying sadness he carried with him as the last airbender. She understood him. And for the first time in a long time, when Aang was with Cami, he didn’t feel quite so alone.

Starting to date Cami was not an entirely conscious choice. In a way it just sort of happened. Things were comfortable with Cami. He always felt safe when held her hand, and when they started kissing, it was… nice. When she was close with him, she was a full pallet of blushes, ducking her head and tucking her dark hair behind her ear. She was adorable. And she was very much in love with him.

Aang was seriously considering asking her to marry him. It was true that his ancestors, the other Air Nomads, had not married, but from what he had observed of the other three nations, they probably wouldn’t understand that. And frankly, it was something he wanted for himself. If he was going to spend his life with a woman, and raise a family with her, he wanted to be married, to pledge his commitment to her, and for her to know that he had made vows to her.

He and Cami came from as close to the same background as was possible for him; after all she was dedicating her life to join his nation. She was attractive, intelligent, and sweet, and being together was warm and easy. He could imagine his life with her.

And after returning from another conference with the leaders of the four nations (a conference that had supposed to have been about trade treaties, but ended up becoming a long winded discussion about the need for balance among the nations, which ultimately had turned into pressure on him to hurry up and start bringing back the air benders!), Aang decided to do it. He loved Cami. Maybe not in all the same ways that he had loved Katara, but he knew that she loved him and that they could be happy together.

When he did ask Cami to marry him, she threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him soundly. She told him that she wanted nothing more than to spend her life with him. She told him that this was the happiest day of her life.

He returned her hug, and smiled weakly to himself, wishing that he could feel the same. 

…………

News of the Avatar’s engagement traveled quickly, and it seemed that all the world was celebrating. 

When Katara heard the news, she had gone to her room and shut the door. She couldn’t say that she was entirely surprised; after all Aang was twenty now, and the two of them had already been separated for over 4 years. And he deserved to find happiness. He deserved to find love. She was happy for him. Her brain told her all of these things. But silently tears trickled down her face. And she didn’t bother to wipe them away.

What they had meant to each other back then, was something that would always remain: a bit of a fairy-tale memory. But that was then. And this is now. And it would seem that their futures would remain as wide apart as the Great Divide.

………….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think? I know how this is playing in my head, but I don’t know how it translates to other readers. Do the characters seem in-character? Is this situation believable? I am also open to constructive criticism (as this is my first fiction, I know I have a lot of room for improvement). I would love to hear your thoughts! Feel free to leave me a review!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Katara was restless.

Learning of Aang’s engagement had reopened some old sores, and Katara found herself wrestling with concerns that she had fooled herself into believing she no longer had.

She had been open to a new relationship for several years now, and she had been out with quite a few men. Many she knew immediately were not for her, but over the years there had been a few she had valiantly tried to forge a relationship with.

There was one man, Luk, that she had been out with off and on for some time before officially getting together about a year ago. Luk was a warrior from her own tribe in the South; he was a few years older than Sokka, and had been just old enough to join her Father and the other men when they had left the village to go fight in the war. Luk was not a bender, but was an able warrior, and a good tribesman. 

So far Luk was the only man that Hakoda seemed to approve of dating his daughter. Hakoda was still protective, but as Katara had grown older he became less so. And Luk was a good southern warrior after all! (So what’s not to like, right?)

About five months ago Luk had even presented Katara with a betrothal necklace (a practice popularly adopted from the Northern Water Tribe). Katara had had no blaring reasons to say no, but she just couldn’t say yes. 

As Katara tried to build something with these water tribe men, she often found herself feeling like somehow she didn’t quite belong anymore, like her thoughts didn’t strictly harmonize with the song of her own culture as it once did, like she herself had become too foreign.

One Northern man had even told her that he was looking for a traditional watertribe girl, implying that she was not. She had actually taken his snide comment as a compliment. She knew that she no longer thought or behaved entirely the same way as the majority of her community. But how could she? Her experiences had changed her, and she could never go back. 

At first it seemed like just small things that bothered her about her relationship with Luk; the fact that he only liked southern water tribe food, that he wasn’t interested in traveling outside the tribe, the fact that he occasionally used racial slurs for people from the other nations. None of these things were overtly a reason to break off their relationship, but they represented to her such a small view of the world: that there was only one way to do things. The fact that Luk had no interest in defining the world by anything larger than the ice and snow they lived in meant that he could only relate to one aspect of Katara’s identity. She began to feel that she would likely have cultural clash with anyone, as her own cultural identity was no longer defined by just her native tribe. 

Katara had broken things off with Luk six months ago (much to Hakoda’s chagrin). Perhaps the most disturbing part of their break being that as soon as it was done, she didn’t really miss him… Like all along she had been trying to make something out of nothing.

Katara began to recognize that some of the concerns she had worried over when she was in her relationship with Aang, were perhaps not as crucial as she had then thought. She had worried about the cultural incompatibilities being married to an Air Nomad might entail, but the more she dated watertribe men, the more she recognized that country of origin was an important foundation of identity, but not the end destination of one’s character. Traveling the world, and rubbing shoulders with people from every nation had made her... different. But perhaps having differences was not the root of the problem?

One day she was venting her frustrations to Master Pakku as he critiqued an advanced waterbending technique he had taught her the previous day. Pakku put his hands up, stopping what she was doing, and bent two low ice stools to sit on. Taking a seat, he gestured for Katara to do the same. He then proceeded to share with her the events that had led his once-betrothed Kanna to leave him, fleeing instead to the South Pole.

He and Kanna had grown up just two houses down from one another in the Northern Water Tribe. Pakku was a few years older than Kanna, but their parents had been close friends since before either of them was born. As a teenager Pakku had moved away from home to study waterbending under the tutelage of the Tribe’s most prestigious Waterbending Master, Master Eeku. Master Eeku only took one student at a time, so to be selected as Eeku’s apprentice was a great honor and a real testament to the talent Pakku exhibited as a waterbender. 

The first time Pakku had returned home after studying under Master Eeku, he had been surprised by how much little Kanna had grown up (and by how pretty she was becoming). From then on when Pakku returned home for festivals and holidays, each time he eagerly looked forward to being with Kanna. As they grew, he found that his feelings for her grew as well. 

By the time Pakku had earned the title of Master at age 19, his family swelling with pride, Kanna was a beautiful and determined 16-year-old. One mention to his mother of his hopes to court Kanna, and immediately their parents were making plans, negotiating bride price, and settling the betrothal; after all this match seemed to be perfect, and had been anticipated by their families for years. 

They had had so much in common: same background, same religion, same home, they even had the same favorite food (candy-roasted tuna-eel). This union should have been easy. But Kanna had found that, unlike his element which moved and adapted, Pakku was more often than not inflexible and uncompromising. He wanted things done his way. He felt that being older and being a man and therefore the “head of the household” meant that he should have the final say. Kanna had feared that to marry Pakku would mean losing herself.

“The last time I saw Kanna before she had run away from our betrothal, we had argued about the correct way to peel an arctic grapefruit. Ridiculous! I wish I had cared more about her feelings, and less about needing to be right.”

Pakku had looked at Katara then, knowing more about what she was really feeling than she wanted him to. “Common backgrounds do not ensure a foundation for perfect relationships. More important is a willingness to work together and to compromise. I wish I had realized then with Kanna that things did not have to be just my way, or her way. But together we could decide upon a third way, one that we created together.”

Pakku sighed, “My stubbornness had driven Kanna away from me. And I spend the majority of my life regretting the lost love of my youth.” 

Katara couldn’t help but think about the “lost love of her youth”… despite the complications and demands duty and society had placed upon them, she and Aang had had compatible personalities. Aang had been ever respectful of her opinions, and built her up in almost every interaction. When Aang was unsure of himself, Katara had bolstered his confidence. Aang always managed to make Katara laugh when she was taking things too seriously; and Katara helped to temper Aang’s tendency to avoid conflict and responsibilities. Aang was willing to bend, and although it might take her a little more time, through his patience and sometimes gentle teasing, he always managed to melt her stubbornness until she could see his point of view as well. In many ways they were opposites, but maybe that had not been such a bad thing? In fact, Katara had sometimes thought cynically that if she were to marry someone too much like herself, she was sure they would kill each other. Perhaps having differences could in fact be a strength...

But this insight did little for her now. Aang was no longer even an option, not that he would likely want to see her again even if he wasn’t claimed. Katara bit her lip, looking up at the sky to blink back her frustrated tears. She felt trapped in the bars of her own poor choices, caged in this place.

These thoughts were making Katara feel even more restless. She had to get away… she needed to get out of the South Pole for a while!

……….

“Look Cami, we’re almost there! The Fire Nation Capital is right over the edge of that volcano in the distance!”

Cami looked up from where she sat at the front of Appa’s saddle, folded arms over the rim, lifting one hand to shade her eyes as she peered into the West. This would be Cami’s first time in the Fire Nation. 

They were on their way back from visiting Cami’s family in the small southeastern Earth Kingdom of town of Shui Shan. Aang had only been there once before, about four months ago when he had dropped Cami off to spend the Spring Festival with her mother and siblings. They had already been a couple for a few months at the time, but they were keeping their relationship quiet; Aang wanting to spare Cami the speculation and gossip that so often followed him. So Aang had not stayed to get to know her family much.

This time was different. This time he had come as her fiancé. And he had to admit, that he had been a bit nervous. He didn’t have a great track record with the parents of his girlfriends…

But when they had arrived, Cami’s mother, Su Ahn, had put both her hands on either side of Aang’s face and pulled him down so she could place a sound kiss on his cheek. Then she had looked him in the eye, with green eyes that looked so much like Cami’s, and welcomed him to their home and into their family. She told him he could call her Mama from then on. Aang had never called anyone Mama before, and he wondered as he felt something warm in his heart.

Cami’s father and two older brothers had all died in the Hundred Year War. Cami’s mother had been unknowingly pregnant with her youngest son, Cami’s only remaining brother, when her husband had left for war. Her father had never met his youngest son; never even knew he existed. 

Her dad and oldest brother had served together under General Nan on the eastern front. They had both died in a battle that had wiped out the entire battalion. Cami’s sixteen year old brother, the one just older than her, had been subscripted to the Earth Kingdom army just two months before Sozin’s Comet had come and Aang had defeated Fire Lord Ozai. He had been injured and was recovering in a hospital camp about a mile in from the coast. His last letter had told how from their camp they could see the flames and feel the heat from Ozai’s final attack in the distance. That letter had come with word that he had died of infection five days after the war had officially ended. 

Cami had been eleven years old when Aang defeated Fire Lord Ozai. She told Aang about how, when she had heard that the war was over, she had gone to their family shrine, lit incense sticks and prayed to the Avatar to thank him for ending the war. Aang had rubbed his upper arm and looked down. He apologized, with genuine remorse, for not ending the war much, much sooner.

Su Ahn had been left a single mother with four remaining children to raise on her own. Luckily her father had been a schoolteacher, so she had been properly educated; so as soon as the baby was weaned, Su Ahn had gone to work as a teacher at the local school. Money was tight, but all the children had had education above their social and economics status. 

Cami’s two younger sisters were named Qing and Wunwun, ages fifteen and twelve. Their youngest brother was nine years old now, and even though his formal name was Long Zhi, everyone just lovingly called him Mantou (steamed bun). 

The first thing Mantou did when he met Aang was pull on his hand so that Aang bent to look him in the eye, then with one fist the boy rubbed at the arrow on Aang’s forehead “I thought maybe it would come off…” Aang had laughed merrily, crossing his eye upward to look at his own brow, “Nope, that I’m afraid is permanent!”

Mantou took to Aang like a puppy from that moment on, wanting to be with him every minute. And Aang would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. Mantou gave Aang all the excuse in the world to mess around and play. Aang spent hours showing off for Mantou and his sisters, juggling water rings, tossing small blasts of air playfully into their hair, and bending the stone floor to sink the kids feet in sand when they played tag (somehow he always won). He brought them close as he opened his palm, a small flame hovering above it. They all stared in awe and begged for more tricks. And Aang was only too happy to oblige. 

By the time he left, Aang had three of Su Ahn’s daughters in love with him, and one very disappointed little boy who sniffled while trying to act brave when they waved goodbye to the retreating flying bison. 

So this was a family, huh? Hmmm… Aang thought that he could certainly get used to having a family.

The Fire Lord had sent a hawk to Aang immediately after he had announced his engagement to Cami, inviting the two of them to Caldera. Zuko wanted Aang to introduce the girl he had finally chosen to marry. So they were making their way to the Fire Nation now, directly after leaving Cami’s hometown.

Aang felt a little bit apprehensive. Cami had joined the Air Acolytes seeking a simple life of detachment from worldly worries. However, by uniting her life with his, he felt like he would be throwing her into a den among hungry conniving nobles and fork-tongued politicians. He worried that she was ruefully unprepared. Cami was gentle and from a simple background, and he worried that the courts might try to eat her alive. This aspect of his life as the Avatar was likely going to be a struggle for her.

But Aang tried not to think too much about that now. They would tackle that platypus-bear when they faced it. For now, they were just going to visit Zuko, and Aang was eager to see his friend.

………

Katara had been the Southern Water Tribe’s official ambassador to the Fire Nation for three or four years now. Understandably, many of her fellow tribesmen and women felt lingering mistrust toward the Fire Nation. She and Sokka were some of the few who had even been there (outside of Fire Nation prisons for POWs, that is). So given Katara’s relative comfort in the country and with its people, coupled with her friendship with the Fire Lord, she had been a natural choice to be appointed ambassador. 

Aside from helping to forge and maintain good relations between the two countries, Katara had also used her ambassador status as a chance to get away from the South Pole on occasion. Zuko had more or less reserved a room for her in the Palace to stay whenever she wanted for however long she’d like. Although the Palace sometimes felt a bit too posh for her tastes, she loved to get out among the more “regular folks”. Fire Nation food had really grown on her (once she built up a tolerance to the spice level), and she especially enjoyed Fire Nation festivals – they sure knew how to throw a good party!

Katara was daydreaming about a certain fiery five-spice curry she was craving, when her boat came into view of the Caldera volcano. Katara had hitched a ride on a boat that was headed to the Northern Water Tribe; after dropping her off, the boat would make port in the Fire Nation capital for a day, resting and re-supplying, and would then continue northward. The crew loved having Katara aboard -- with her waterbending to aid their travel, they made great time. She faced the wind with a smile on her face as she bent the water to get them there even faster.

Once she had settled into her room, brushed through her hair and changed into a bit more formal clothes, Katara set out to find Zuko. She found him in one of the smaller sitting rooms, which was only “smaller” by comparison because the room was still huge. The ceilings were impossibly high and despite the heat and daylight, lit torches hung from various places around the room. It had large windows on three sides with heavy crimson drapes, tall double doors led into the room and an impressive teak desk with dragon-carved legs faced the doors. 

When Katara entered the room, Zuko stood and stepped around the front of the desk. With hands held in Fire Nation greeting he bowed, and she returned the bow. Then they dropped the formalities and gave one another a hug.

“Feels like it’s been a while since you last graced us with your presence, Katara. As always, the Fire Nation welcomes you.”

“Thanks Zuko. How is Mai? And how about little Izumi? Is she still giving you a run for your money?”

“Mai is good. She works wonders running this place. I know I couldn’t do this without her. And Izumi?” Zuko’s expression unintentionally shifted into a small infatuated smirk, “she is a force to be reckoned with. Never tell a three-year-old Fire Princess that she can’t play with Mommy’s knives; she might light the room on fire.”

Katara laughed. She had always had a bit of a soft spot for Zuko and Mai’s fiery daughter. She was full of spunk and spirit, but was also surprisingly tenderhearted underneath, just like her father.

“Raising that girl will be like raising a baby dragon. But she’s got great parents, and she’s awfully loved, Zuko. You just need to ride out the terrible threes.”

“I thought it was terrible twos?”

“Yeah, whoever said that didn’t have much experience with three-year-olds,” Katara laughed, thinking of Sokka’s oldest girl, Una. Sokka had been sure she was born a snotty teenager, but Gran Gran had assured him that he just needed to have patience. And sure enough, as she made it past three and onto four, she mellowed considerably. Unfortunately, her little brother, Arlock, just turned three, so Sokka was in the thick of it all over again.

“So besides Izumi’s antics, what else is new, Zuko?” Katara asked.

Zuko glanced sideways at Katara, gaging her reaction, “Well… did you hear that Aang is getting married?”

“Uh, yeah… I heard about that… “ Katara trailed off awkwardly, not making eye contact with him. “So… have you met her?”

Zuko didn’t say anything for a moment. “Yeah. She seems nice.” 

Katara tried to school her expression into a smile. “That’s good…” was all she could come up with to respond. Underneath she was fairly bursting with questions, but wasn’t sure she was prepared for any of the answers. She was pretty sure that satisfying her curiosity about whatever girl had finally stolen Aang’s heart might only make the hollow feeling in her own heart more empty.

“Zuko!” Someone called from the hall.

Katara’s heart sank into her stomach. She knew that voice; it was a bit deeper than the last time she had heard it, but she would know that voice anywhere...

“Oh there are you, Sifu Hotman!” Aang’s voice rang out in the large room as he strode in holding the hand of a girl she didn’t recognize. The two made a striking couple, both robed in the yellows and oranges of the air nomads. 

Zuko turned to face Katara’s stunned and horrified expression.

“Oh,” he said with feigned innocence, “did I fail to mention that Aang and his fiancée are here as well?”


	4. Chapter 4

Aang skidded to a dead stop.

Frozen, he blinked twice, and then squeezed his eye shut once more. Finally opening them to find that she had not been a figment of his imagination after all. 

He then dropped Cami’s hand guiltily.

“Katara?... Wha!... what are you doing here?”

“Oh! Aang… well…,” she sent a seething look at Zuko, who feigned innocence with a small one-shouldered shrug. Then turned her body half-way towards Aang, although she found it difficult to keep eye contact with him, “um, well I am the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation.” 

“Oh… of course…”

Cami cleared her throat and nudged Aang with her shoulder. Aang startled like he had forgotten she was there.

“Oh right! Well Katara,” gesturing with a small wave towards Cami, “this is... uh, well you see... this is my uh she’s, well, this is ... um... well her name is...” Aang sort of drifted off as his brain scrambled to remember...

“Cami.” Cami filled in flatly.

“Ugh, yeah! Of course! This is Cami... and she’s well, she’s great... of course she’s great! ... And she’s um well really important because well she’s my... uh... she’s my...”

“You’re fiancée.” Cami filled in for him again as he stuttered like an idiot.

“Yeah! Yeah... that...” he finished weakly. Rubbing the back of his head and turning beat red, unable to look at either of the women in the room. His eyes instead looking to Zuko for help, Zuko dropping his face into his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

Another long awkward silence, everyone avoiding everyone elses’ gazes until Aang suddenly remembering, piped up.

“Oh yeah! And uh... Cami, this is my.., well she was my ... um my Waterbending Sifu... this is Master Katara.” He hopes his voice didn’t sound as wistful out-loud when he said her name as it did in his head. 

Cami’s face brightened immediately with recognition. “Oh Katara! You’re the Master Katara! I’ve heard so much about you, even before dating Aang!” Cami rushed forward and gave Katara a hug. When she stepped back she kept Katara’s hands in hers, “You helped stop the war! You taught the Avatar, I mean, you taught Aang to waterbend. You even defeated Princess Azula and saved…” suddenly she looked a little bashful, gesturing to Zuko, “well, um, the Fire Lord when he was struck with Azula’s lightning.” She looked at Katara with her big green eyes and gushed, “And you did it all when you were just fourteen. I’m so, so honored to meet you! I hope you know how much I admire you, Master Katara!”

At first Katara just stood there a little shocked. When she found her tongue, she replied “Katara. Just call me Katara. No need to use formal titles. And it is,” she swallowed, “great to meet you too, Cami.” A furtive glance at Aang, “And congratulations to you both on your engagement.”

Cami linked her arm with Katara’s, “Aang and I were just came to find Zuko to let him know we were planning to take Appa for a fly to the coast before dinner. Appa gets restless if he spends all day on the ground (just like Aang actually… ) so we thought we ought to take him now. Would you like to come Katara?! I’m sure it would be wonderful for you and Aang to catch up, and there is so much I want to learn about you! Aang doesn’t talk about you nearly enough, in my opinion. I practically have to twist his arm to get any good stories out of him about the two of you!” Katara glanced again at Aang, who looked self-consciously away, brushing his foot on the ground, his blue tattoo highlighted against the awkward red blush covering his face and ears.

“…. So will you come? Do you want to come with us to fly Appa?!”

Katara dragged her attention back to the chattering girl, and took Cami by the hand, trying her best to decline gracefully, “You know, I really better not. I just barely arrived, and am still feeling pretty tired from my travels.” She turned Cami towards Aang, and gently sent her his way, “You and Aang go.”

Katara directed her next comment to Zuko, “I’ll just be in my room resting.” And then situating a smile on her face she turned back to the Nomad couple. “Be sure to tell Appa ‘hi’ from me,” she added, before turning toward the big double doors, the smile sliding from her face once her back was turned lkjhas she did her best not to run from the room.

………..

Katara did not join them for dinner; still “weary from her journey” she opted to take her meal in her room.

Aang was both supremely relived and endlessly disappointed she did not join them. What was wrong with him? He had spent the last four years trying to forget her! She, who had once been his best friend, had cut off all ties between them, throwing him off like unwanted rubbish. Katara obviously did not want any more contact with him, and with all the mess between them, he absolutely should feel the same. So why did his stomach flop when he saw her? Why was his very first unmitigated reaction to seeing her a swelling of... hope?

Aang was distracted at dinner, his jaw clenching and unclenching with his intense mental dialogue. He dropped his chopsticks three times and couldn’t seem to follow the conversation. Cami looked at him a little concerned, her small hand gently touching his forearm. He took her hand and tried to smile, assuring her that he was fine; but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Zuko cleared his throat, “So Aang, would you like to do a little sparring? Kick around some fire for a while?”

“Oh, yes please!” Aang groaned in relief.

............

As a teacher, Zuko had always struggled to get Aang to attack with passion. His commands to “Imagine punching through your opponent’s heart!” would be met with a half-hearted shrug as Aang’s gaze would distractedly follow the flight of a flutter-bee. When it came to firebending, Aang had always been more interested in learning to juggle it or to mimic magic tricks. When he did firebend for combat, he often tried to use it defensively, always more reticent to take the offensive.

However, it would appear that the Airbender had actually absorbed all of Zuko’s lessons in attack after all, as Aang now demonstrated perfectly his powerful and aggressive abilities with fire.

Five quick and powerful punches of fire. A round kick and downward slash. Aang’s offensive assault came blazing toward Zuko. Zuko blocked all of Aang’s strikes, but was forced to step backward with each.

Aang continued his relentless assault. “I just feel so stupid, Zuko!” Fire pluming from his kicks, “There I was,” more fire punches, “with the girl I’m going to marry!” A low round kick sweeping the floor, fire bursting from hits wake. “Stuttering like an idiot in front of another woman like a love-sick twelve-year-old again!” A quick two-step run with a spiraling jump ending with a punch to the ground, fire bursting up in a blaze around him. 

“What’s wrong with me??” Aang pleaded, breathing hard as he stood, “It isn’t what Katara wants, and it certainly isn’t fair to Cami!”

Zuko dissipated the remnant fire. “Yeah you... weren’t very smooth.” Zuko filled in awkwardly. 

“Arrrgh..!” Aang let the groan out slowly in frustration. “What is my deal?! I mean, Katara and I... I mean her and me...” his eyes darkened, “we’ve been over for a long time now. And now I’m in love with, well at least, I mean I love... someone else, and...”

Aang let out another frustrated groan and stomped on the ground bending up a small stool of stone which he sank hopelessly onto and buried his shaved head in his hands. 

“Zuko, what is wrong with me?!”

Zuko, grabbed his towel and wiped the sweat from his face back toward his top-knot, draping the other towel over Aang’s dejected shoulder. Zuko tapped Aang’s rock seat with his foot, “Can I get one of those?” Still seated Aang planted his feet and punched a fist into the air, bending another earth stool for Zuko.

After sitting himself down, Zuko looked sideways at Aang, “Honestly Aang, I wish Uncle were here. He’s always so much better with this stuff than I am…” Zuko shifted uncomfortably, “all I can tell you is what I saw. And from that incredibly awkward interaction earlier today…” He looked directly at Aang, “I’d say you maybe still have feelings for Katara.”

Aang groaned again and draped the towel over his head, hiding his face as he cradled it in his hands, elbows on his knees.

“I don’t know!” came Aang’s muffled reply, “I just never got any closure with her! She hated me too much…” 

Zuko sat awkwardly, debating if he should place a hand on Aang’s shoulder or not.

The muffled voice came from under the towel again, “but I felt something when I saw Katara again this afternoon, Zuko.” Aang sat up, pulling the towel into his lap and pinning Zuko with a tortured look. “I just loved her so much,” he spoke, almost like pleading.

Zuko shifted again and cleared his throat. “Well, uh… that’s a good thing, right? I mean, you know what true love feels like. So… I guess you just need to be sure to find that again.”

Aang’s expression soured, “But Katara wants nothing to do with me, Zuko. I shouldn’t even want to be with her!” Aang wrung his hands, his body language dripping with guilt as he added, “I’m going to marry Cami, and I’m a lucky man for it.”

“Aang, whether or not you marry Cami should not be dependent on Katara’s choice of whether or not to be with you. Evaluate how you feel for Cami. Make sure that what you have with her is true love, which you know what that’s like, because you’ve felt it before.” Zuko decided to place his hand on Aang’s shoulder after all. “Then if you decide to go through with this and marry Cami, it will be because what you two have together is genuine.”

“Other people have the luxury of waiting to be sure, Zuko,” Aang retorted bitterly, “I’m not sure that I will ever feel about anyone the way I felt about Katara.” His face pained but resolute. “But I have to move on. According to most of the world counsel, I’m already four to six years overdue!”

But Zuko calmly reproved, “Cami is a great girl, and she deserves to be loved fully. It’s not fair to her if you marry her as a second-best consolation prize.”

Aang looked up, shocked, his expression appalled, “She’s not second-best! Cami is amazing! I just… I just…”

Suddenly Aang stood, walked to the edge of the sparing field and grabbed his staff. 

“Sorry Zuko, I’ve got to get out of here for a bit. Clear my head…”

With a snap, Aang opened his glider and flew away.

“Poor kid…” Zuko sighed sympathetically as he watched Aang soar away toward the coast. 

..........

After that horribly awkward interaction with Aang and his fiancée, Katara had hidden herself away in her room. She flushed deeply in embarrassment as she thought about her reaction to Aang. The excitement that jumped in her stomach when she heard his voice, like something long anticipated had woken and leaped inside her eager to break free. And then she thought with shame about how quickly jealousy had roared its ugly head at the sight of him holding Cami’s hand. She was ashamed of her uncharitable feelings toward the girl, seeing as she seemed to have nothing but goodwill toward Katara. 

Katara was pathetic. She needed to get out of her room; needed to work off this nervous energy.

The sun was setting a fiery orange blaze over the western edge of the volcano. Katara watched the colors in the sky shift gradually as she walked toward the bison courtyard just off the back of the palace. Zuko had had this courtyard made for Appa shortly after the end of the war, knowing that Aang preferred to have Appa nearby. There was a stable built there as well, large enough to accommodate the giant animal; but when the weather was good, Appa always preferred to sleep under the open sky.

“Hey there, Appa,” Katara cooed as she approached the flying bison. “Long time no see, eh?”

Appa grunted a chastisement before he dropped his head to happily nuzzle Katara. Katara was gripped suddenly with how much she had missed the old bison. Unfortunately, her ruined relationship with Aang had meant separation from Appa as well, and Appa seemed to accuse her for throwing him out with his rider. 

“I’m sorry, Appa. I didn’t mean to lose our friendship too.”

She embraced his shaggy head quietly for a few minutes, Katara stoking her old friend’s big furry cheek. Regret gave way to warmth in her heart as Appa seemed to openly forgive her. 

After a long companionable silence, Appa snorted, looking up into the sky. Katara followed his gaze to see Aang coming towards them on his glider. Her breath caught and she quickly tucked herself back towards Appa’s flank. With a spin and a snap, the glider closed, Aang’s footsteps lightly crunching towards his bison.

“Hey, boy. Getting hungry?” Aang came into view with a load of hay gathered from the stall. He stopped short when he spotted Katara. A pause. Then, “Hi Katara. We missed you at dinner...”

Katara emerged from hiding beside Appa, tucking a hair behind her ear. “Um yeah, sorry about that. Long day of travel, you know…” She trailed off pointlessly.

Aang looked at her for a moment longer. Then proceeded to put the hay down in front of his animal guide. “Yeah, sure.”

Aang walked back to the stall to gather another armload of hay. “So… it’s been a while, eh Katara?” thinly veiled resentment tainting his voice.

She cleared her throat, “um, yeah, it has…”

“So… how’s the South Pole? As you know, I haven’t been there in a while.”

She didn’t fail to feel the jab in his tone. Choosing to ignore it, not wanting to fight with Aang the very first day, she replied, “Um, the South Pole is fine. It’s really grown in the last few years. I think the village has officially become a city.”

Silence fell as Aang went for one last load of hay. Once he had dumped his armload, and brushed his arms of any last straws, Aang turned to her.

“Look, Katara, what happened that day… what I did… I just want you to know it was a mistake, … I never meant to hurt you. I would never…”

“No Aang, lets not talk about it. It’s okay. That was a long time ago.”

He looked at her for a long time, both of them remembering; there was too much to say, to the point that they couldn’t say any of it.

Appa grunted, snorting a breath of air that blew their robes. Aang let out a sigh, and turned gesturing to Appa, “You know, he really missed you.”

The weight in the air lifting a bit, as they both turned to pet Appa’s white fur, “Yeah... well I missed him too. So where’s Momo?”

“Who, Momo?” Aang laughed, smiling that crooked half-smile she remembered so clearly, “Oh with how much the Acolytes at the temple spoil him with all-he-can-eat treats, nowadays Momo is fat and lazy, perfectly content to stay at home in splendor.” Aang looked down slightly, “And he’s getting pretty old for a lemur. I don’t feel comfortable bringing him on long trips anymore.”

“Well tell him I missed him.”

Aang smiled, “Will do! I know he missed you too.” Aang’s expression changed, something like longing on his face. “We all missed you Katara.” The air suddenly felt heavy, and Katara felt herself drawn toward Aang. She wanted to touch him. To be with him in that easy way they always used to when they were kids. To hold him, and make it all better.

Katara carefully placed her hand on Aang’s arrowed hand, which was resting on Appa. He looked first at their hands, and then at her. Her blue eyes roamed his face trying to convey her sincerity, “I’m sorry for how things became between us, Aang.”

They were close, something like electricity tingling between them. Aang’s eyes subconsciously closed as he took a deep breath through his nose, letting it out with a sigh. He seemed to lean into her the slightest bit, like he was pulled by some invisible force. 

Katara felt the pull as well.

“Cami seems really nice!” Katara blurted out nervously, her voice too loud.

Aang’s eyes startled open, taking a quick step backward, their hands dropping. “Yeah,” he looked at the ground, “she is.” Looking up toward the palace as though he might see her, like he tasted guilt on his tongue, “She’s better than I deserve.”

Trying to shake off the intensity of what had just passed between them, Katara spoke, trying to lighten the air, “she seems like a really wonderful person. You deserve each other.” 

Aang gave her a strange look, one she couldn’t quite read. Then he turned, walking a few steps away and bent to pick up his staff. Looking back at her over his shoulder, he smiled slightly, “She always wanted to meet you.” 

“Yeah?” Katara looked away bashfully. Clearing her throat she asked, “So when is the wedding?”

Aang looked at the staff in his large hands. Katara wondered when his hands had gotten so big… “This Fall. Cami and I both prefer to keep it small, but the world seems to think it needs to be some big to-do. We don’t want to offend any world leaders by omitting any invitations. Bumi’s offered to host the wedding for us in Omashu,” Aang quirked a smile, “but I made him promise me he’d serve more than just rock candy.” 

Katara laughed, “Ah King Bumi and his genemite rock candy! Well at least you know you’d never run out of refreshments; just get someone to wear some of that creeping-crystal for a little while, and you’d have plenty more to go around!” 

“Right, are you volunteering to wear it?” He teased. 

“Oh I’ve been there and done that. I think it’s your turn.”

They were both smiling as they looked at each other. Then Katara cleared her throat and Aang looked away.

Soberly Aang went on, “But I don’t know now. I visited Bumi a couple months ago, and his health isn’t so good right now. He says he’s finally starting to feel his age, which who even knows what 120 years old should feel like?”

“I guess you do,” she joked.

Aang made a face, “yeah, but that doesn’t count.”

The sun had set by now, a yellow glow coming from the palace and the torches surrounding the courtyard. Aang turned to go inside the palace.

“You know Zuko will be at the wedding, and Toph. Sokka told me last time I saw him that he wouldn’t miss it…” A heavy pause, “You know you’re invited too, of course, right?” The look in his eyes holding some sort of hidden pain.

“Oh… right,” Katara tried to imagine herself watching Aang get married to another woman, and steadied herself from the sudden vertigo she felt. “Well, I guess we’ll see…”

But Katara knew she couldn’t do that. And suddenly she felt confused; being with Aang tonight was almost too nice. But she needed to remember that things had changed, and would always be different. She needed to get away from him; she couldn’t stay here.

When she returned to her room at the palace, she would send a message to the crew of her ship, informing them that she would continue on with them to the North Pole in the morning.

She thought of the brief touch she shared with Aang. Of the way they seemed to gravitate together.

I just can’t stay here…


	5. Chapter 5

Aang walked away from his encounter with Katara at Appa’s courtyard feeling... confused. And a little guilty. He hadn’t done anything to be guilty about. But he had felt something. And it made him feel disloyal.

He would be lying if he didn’t admit that being with Katara again had been exciting, and frankly something he had longed for for a very, very long time. But he was angry with her for rejecting him, promising him that she was his family, but then proving that she wasn’t; he had definitely been expendable. Handling her rejection had, without a doubt, been the hardest coping experience of his life (which was saying something, with a life like his). He had four years of reasons to be angry, reasons to never want to see her face again… her face… hmmm, yeah… she had such a beautiful face…

Katara was more beautiful than ever. She had taken his breath away when they were just kids; now he could hardly look at her, blushes creeping up the sides of his face just thinking about her. Katara’s cocoa colored skin had been clear and luminescent in the torchlight, her blue-blue eyes stunning, her hair falling in thick waves all the way to her small waist, a waist that begged him to hold it, bringing her against him. Her hair smelled just like he remembered: like flowers and happiness; he had sighed with nostalgia when he breathed it in… 

But then he sighed again, this time in a huff, knowing that all of that was lost. Because he wasn’t what she wanted; not then, not now. And she wasn’t what he wanted either. Obviously. By the fact that he was getting married. Aang groaned in frustration. 

Because he was in love with Cami. He was. Cami was everything a guy could want – she was kind, and pretty, and smart: she worked really hard, she laughed when Aang wanted to be funny, and she looked at him with such adoration in her eyes. Any guy would be lucky to have a woman like her love him. Aang was lucky. And he knew that. He knew that. Of course he did.

Suddenly he felt very ungrateful. What was wrong with him? He had asked himself this question so many times today. Katara was ruining things! And he couldn’t help but feel irritated with her. Because she was complicating something that didn’t need to be complicated.

Resolve hardened in his eyes. Abruptly Aang began striding down the hallway toward the guest wing. He was going to find Cami, and he was going to prove that he loved her. Prove to himself that she was the one he wanted.

…………

Katara crept away early the next morning. Very early. She didn’t even tell Zuko she was leaving (seeing how he had knowingly thrown her into that awkward surprise interaction with Aang yesterday; he wasn’t exactly reliable at the moment to be on her side.) She would send him notice that she had left once her ship was on its way.

She had taken her time walking back to her room in the guest wing last night. She had a lot to think about, and didn’t want to think about any of it. She found she could focus better while she walked (even if what she was focusing on was not thinking about something). As Katara had made her way down the quiet tapestried halls toward her room, she heard something down one of the adjoining halls. What was that? Giggling? A long pause. Another giggle… a moan?

As she walked around the corner she had been surprised to see a tangle of orange and yellow robes pushed up against the outside of one of the guest bedroom doors, the back of a bald tattooed head, with a dainty hand wrapped around the back of it, fingers splayed. Hastily, she retreated back around the corner she had come from, her own hand springing to her mouth to cover her surprised gasp. Katara stood stunned, breathing like she had just sprinted a hundred yards. She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself as she peeked one eye around the corner again, to confirm that she really had seen what she thought she had seen. 

Yup, there they were, still wrapped passionately around one another. Without breaking contact, there was a fumbling with the door-handle until it opened, and then the two of them hastily stumbled into the room, disappearing as they quickly shut the door behind them.

Stunned, Katara had retreated back around the corner, resting her back against the wall as she tried to calm her racing heart. 

For a moment she thought she understood how Aang had lost it at the South Pole when he witnessed her kissing Urik; what Katara was feeling at that moment was intense. Only, she thought guiltily, that at least Aang had had some claim on her at the time, a reason to feel justly enraged. Right now, she had no leg to stand on.

She shouldn’t be surprised by what she had just seen. They were engaged after all. But it was one thing to suppose, and it was quite another to witness it first hand. She tasted bitter in her mouth as she felt her bottom lip begin to tremble, water springing to her eyes. Why? Why was she even upset by this? She should be happy for them.

But she wasn’t. Without her permission her mind called up images of her and Aang, enfolded in each other’s loving embrace. Aang had been a great kisser, always enthusiastic and very attentive. Part of what had made his long absences so unbearable was how much she had missed being with him like that when he was gone.

But their physical relationship, despite sometimes getting pretty intense and muddling her brain, had still been fairly innocent. But Aang was much older now. A man. She shut her eyes tight, trying to will away her thoughts. And the unwanted pain and jealousy that accompanied them. 

Enough! She had chosen to end what they had had. Chosen to let him go (or be driven away, as it were). She certainly had chosen not to reply to his letters, or to meet him in Kyoshi. This was the igloo she had built, and now she had to live in it.

But she also knew she absolutely couldn’t stay here. Her decision from earlier was now cemented. She had to get away, far away from Aang.

Thus she now found herself briskly walking toward the ship, hailing the captain with a wave as she approached on the dock. She was greeted heartily and within the hour, she and the crew were gone, sailing toward the Northern Water Tribe. 

………….

Aang found out at breakfast that Katara had left, a messenger bringing the news to Zuko while they ate. Zuko had taken the news as though he wasn’t surprised in the slightest, although Cami had been very disappointed. She had hoped to get to know Master Katara better, spend some time with her, maybe become friends. Aang thought sheepishly to himself that maybe he should have told her more specifics about why he hadn’t seen her in so many years. He had left Cami blatantly in the dark; he had pretended it was to spare her feelings, but he knew deep down that it was really to spare his own.

Aang honestly was relieved that Katara had gone. The emotional confusion she had caused him in just half a day, was way more than he was prepared to deal with at the moment.

Last night he had sought Cami out as he had determined to do. And he had kissed her silly, wanting an escape from his confusion; desperate to forget that electric moment he had shared with Katara, just simply touching hands! Aang had been hoping to prove to himself that he loved Cami every bit as much as he had ever loved Katara. 

All it had proven to him was that he was indeed a man. A young, healthy man. And that he needed to be more careful next time. Brains turned off and eyes glazed, the two of them had gotten pretty heated, Cami surprising him with how eagerly she went along with it. Without any conscious thought taking him there, he found himself in the dark, shirtless, and kissing Cami passionately on her bed. She had massaged her hands amorously over his shoulders and back. However, when her hand passed over the lighting scar on his back, the one that Katara had spent so many weeks trying to heal, the synapses in his brain finally reconnected. He pulled away sharply, realizing where this was going, he scrambled off the bed. 

Aang had stuttered through some apologies, and some excuses, and then more apologies. He had rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants, and looked entirely like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Cami had laughed, and told him she was fine. That she loved being with him like that, but that she was happy to let him take the lead. She had leaned forward with half-lidded eyes and whispered in his ear that she couldn’t wait to marry him.

Aang had ungracefully stammered and stuttered and scrambled into his shirt, out the door and down the hall, smacking himself in the forehead once he was back in his own room. He felt horrible. His efforts to convince himself of his love for Cami had just left him tipsy with lust, but no closer to surety about his feelings. If anything he felt even more unsure, afraid that he had used Cami for his own two-faced purposes.

That night he had drown in dreams deep and brimming with kisses and hot bodies. But his dreams seemed to vacillate between Cami, and Katara, and Aang felt sick with shame when he woke up. He felt like a cheater. Like a liar. Like he had stolen something that didn’t belong to him.

So when he heard that Katara was gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe now he could sort out whatever was going on with his loyalties. Maybe now he could do what Zuko had advised, and take a good look at his feelings for Cami, figure out if she still was the one for him, without a certain Waterbender messing with his brain. 

………….

Katara arrived in the North Pole just over a week later. Thanks to Katara’s waterbending, and her seeming endless need to let off some steam, the ship had made unprecedented time. 

Katara didn’t have any specific reason to be there, other than to avoid being elsewhere, so after arranging accommodations, she set off to the waterbending training grounds to see if perhaps she could at least be of some use as an adjunct teacher for a little while. As she ascended the top of the steps, she watched appreciatively as a group of students gracefully passed a stream of water back and forth, weaving it between them in an endless flow of energy.

“Is that Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe I see? Why, Katara, it really has been too long!”

Katara turned to see Urik approaching her. A much bigger and broader version of Urik, that is. He had bulked up significantly in the years since she’d seen him last, and like many water tribe men, was now quite imposing. When he arrived next to her, she felt much smaller than she used to, and it made her blush. 

“Urik!” she ejected surprised. “Wow, it’s so good to see you! I didn’t expect to find you here.”

“Find me here? Oh I’m here everyday. You on the other hand? Seeing you here is a delightfully pleasant deviation from the usual monotony…” 

“I just thought I’d drop by and see if I could be of any help here,” Katara explained smiling. “I’m planning to stay here in the North Pole for a little while and was hoping to find something useful to do with my time.”

“Well I’m a Master Waterbending Instructor here now. Let me talk with some of the other Sifus; I’m sure it would be our honor to have you teach our students. A chance to learn from the Master Katara?! Yeah, you’ll have kids lining up for your classes before you can say tiger-seal jerky!”

“Thanks Urik. I’d really appreciate that.”

“Of course, Katara. Anything for an old friend.” Urik’s eyes glanced briefly to her grandmother’s necklace still around her neck. He took a step closer to her, picking up both of her hands. “You look great Katara… I mean, it is so great to see you.” His openly flirtatious behavior had Katara blushing again.

“You do too. Um, I mean, its good to see you too.” She tucked a hair loopy back with her hand.

Urik continued, “Well, if you don’t have plans for tonight… I’d love to take you out to dinner. I know the perfect place we can get some seaweed noodles and braised zebra-fish. This place has the best stewed sea-prunes this side of your Gran Gran’s kitchen!”

“That, um… that actually sounds really nice, Urik. I’d love to.”

Perhaps the Northern Water Tribe would provide exactly the type of distraction she needed.

………..


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, 
> 
> I have now finished this story and have already uploaded it on fanfiction.net. I haven't seemed to generate nearly as much interest over on this site, so I am considering just stopping here. But if you have interest to see the rest, let me know. Leave a comment. Or anything. Otherwise, no worries. I don't need to continue.

After Katara left, Aang and Cami stayed in the Fire Nation for nearly a week longer before heading back to the Southern Air Temple. Aang had hoped with Katara leaving the palace that the conflict he had felt at seeing her again would leave along with her; however, instead he was left feeling a dull emptiness and a growing uncertainty about his relationship with Cami.

Although Aang tried to hide it, Cami could tell that not all was well with Aang. After his impassioned advances on her the night Master Katara had left, he then seemed to back-pedal, becoming more withdrawn emotionally and cautious about expressing his physical attractions toward her. Cami hungered for more of that ardent affection, but found instead that even simple touches would sometimes result in a stiffening of Aang’s spine or an intake of breath before he would slowly exhale. He didn’t reject her outright, if she grabbed his hand, he would hold hers back. However something was different; the easy way they had once held one another was gone. Occasionally Aang would get lost deep in thought, but when she questioned him about it, he would conjure an artificial grin pretending to be just fine. This sudden change baffled Cami; she worried that perhaps she had done something wrong.

Aang knew that Cami was concerned, and despite all his best efforts to assure her that all was as well as it ever had been, he also knew that she wasn’t stupid, and he didn’t like trying to fool her. But he didn’t want to yank her emotions around just because his were unstable right now. He was just so confused. He really needed some time and space to figure out his feelings.

The weather was beautiful for flying. Appa lowed happily, and Cami closed her eyes and turned her face to the sunshine as the wind blew her bangs from her face. Aang sat on Appa’s head, oblivious to the pleasant weather as he stewed over memories, recent and old.

Shortly after the war, as just a young 13-year-old kid, Aang had been dragged into a slew of political meetings that he hardly understood; and he’d suffered from feelings of both self-doubt and severe boredom. Aang had been incredibly grateful for his friend King Bumi in many of these meetings, who both was a trusted friend and also ensured that Aang was not the most juvenile person in the room (at least in behavior). After meetings, he and Bumi would often find a place to mess around together and reminisce about old times.

Once in Ba Sing Se after a long meeting discussing war retributions, the two had gone out to the palace garden to practice earth bending, launching stone disks at a target wall Bumi had bent in the middle of the courtyard. The two made a funny pair: one withered centenarian and one pre-pubescent bald kid, both sharing a common history. 

“So, did ya ever get married or anything, Bumi?”

Bumi bent a rock discus into the center of the target with a crash. Then his wrinkled face looked wistfully off into the distance, “Indeed I did. Do you remember Iralee?”

Aang snorted, “That cross-eyed girl?! First time I met you, you were shooting pebbles into her rice congee!”

“Ah! How I found those crossed-eyes irresistible! Even then I was desperate for her attention.”

Aang made a gagging sound, “Bumi, seriously! Are you for real? Iralee?? She practically had to rub her nose on something before she could see what color it was!”

“You air nomads and your gross exaggerations! You know Iralee could see color from at least 3 feet. It was any details she couldn’t make out until she got her nose on it. One time late at night she didn’t put on her glasses and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She thought there was an intruder. When I found her the mirror was encased in a rock cage with a rock spike held threateningly to her own face’s reflection. Oh how I loved her spunk! Turns out Iralee was just very near-sighted. Once she got a pair of genemite trifocals, she could see just fine. But much to my everlasting disappointment, when she wore her glasses her eyes uncrossed. Sometimes I would hide them just to appreciate her cross-eyed beauty!”

“Bumi, you are so weird!” Aang laughed appreciatively as he regarded his very eccentric old friend.

“Ah, but true love is true love, and Iralee was the only one for me. When you find the genuine thing, no counterfeit will ever be adequate…”

Aang looked dopily at the water in the pond in the corner of the garden. “Yeah, I think I know what you mean, Bumi.”

“Do you now? And who is it that has stolen your heart, Aang? Or shall I simply state that I know it to be your waterbending friend?”

“Yeah… Katara is amazing!” Aang’s whole posture breathed out an adoring sigh, “She is everything I could ever want and more. Bumi, I really think she is my Forever Girl!”

Bumi stomped and launched another stone disk, hitting dead center and smiling lopsidedly to himself as he said, “Yes, yes, perhaps you have found your Iralee.”

Aang launched a stone disk at the target, the rock crashing a little left of center. “So… what happened to her?”

Bumi’s posture seemed to shrink minutely, his shoulders rolling forward, making him look even older. “Well my boy, when one lives as long as I have, one tends to lose many that were meant to out-live them. My darling Iralee passed away at the ripe old age of 95, which has left me eighteen lonely years a widower. We had two sons. The younger of the two died in the war as a young man. And my oldest and heir, passed away just two years ago at the age of 91. You and I in many ways are in the same boat, Aang. Both of us have lost everyone we’ve known – you while staying frozen in your childhood, and me from simply growing too old.”

The two contemplated this sad bond for a moment, silently thankful that they had one another. Grateful for the strange moments when they could reminisce together, Aang recalling what felt to be very recent past, while Bumi dug through over one hundred years of memory.

Aang broke the silence, lightening the mood with a little humor, “They say you’re just too stubborn to die.”

Bumi bent another stone discus in a perfect bull’s-eye, snorting his maniacal snicker, “Well they’re not wrong. I haven’t died once yet!”

………..

For the next month Aang kept up the charade that nothing was amiss, convincing both Cami and himself (almost). Simple physical affections with Cami became more natural again, and he didn’t let on to her (or to himself) that he had any wavering thoughts about their impending marriage. He preferred to avoid and evade his own niggling concerns. It helped that Aang had been called away to help resolve a dispute between King Kuei and a former Earth Kingdom General-gone-rogue; the General had dissented from the Earth Kingdom army with a group of soldier loyalist who considered King Kuei’s recent negotiations with Fire Lord Zuko to be submission to the imperialistic requests of the Fire Nation. The General and his followers had been harassing local towns and villages into offering them support in both manpower and supplies. Those who did not comply were dealt with violently. Aang was gone for the better part of a month helping the villages and searching for the rebels before he apprehended the General and turned him over to King Kuei for trial. Although Aang disliked contention of any kind, he found that he had been almost grateful for the distraction from the uncertainty in his own personal life.

After returning again to the Southern Air Temple, Aang spent a few days overseeing the temple and making sure all was running well with the Acolytes, before he and Cami flew to Omashu. There were plans that needed to be made for the wedding, and Aang was always keen to see his crazy old friend. Perhaps he would gain some insight from Bumi that would help him put to rest the quiet but elusive doubts in the back of his mind. 

Bumi was not well when they arrived; he was so drained of energy that he didn’t even bother to earthbend Aang’s chair over during dinner. But Bumi still mustered his strength to flirt with Cami, winking while he held her hand and commending Aang on landing such a good solid Earth Kingdom girl. He had cackled and regaled her with as many unflattering stories about Aang as a child as he could remember. Cami laughed as Aang blushed, and laughed more when Aang then teased his oldest friend in like kind with stories about him. The two of them had apparently gotten into more trouble together than a couple of rabid rabbaroos in a teashop. 

Later when Cami was whisked away by the royal tailor (Aang hoped it wasn’t the same tailor who made King Bumi’s robes) for measuring for her wedding gown, Aang accompanied Bumi back to his chambers to rest. Once Bumi was propped up on pillows in his bed, Aang, brought a chair by the head of the bed, and turned to his old friend, “Thank you again for offering to host the wedding, Bumi. It means a lot to me.”

“Awww, well, I wouldn’t want it to be anywhere else. No where else could you and your bride be sent off to your honeymoon in a mail cart!”

They both chuckled briefly, until a rare somber expression fell across King Bumi’s withered old face. He turned to Aang, peering at him with his good eye, “Now Aang, my friend, I know that Monk Gyatso would be proud of all you have become (he would be endlessly relieved to see that you finally grew into your arrows! Darn things have looked enormous on you for the last half-decade!) And he would wish to be here for this important event in your life. But I also know he would want you to be sure to make the choice that makes you happiest. I’ve been sensing some hesitation from you… Are you sure you are getting married to the right girl, and for the right reasons?”

Aang tried to look sure, but knew that Bumi could see through any pretense he tried to put on. Instead, lifting his eyebrows in humility, Aang replied, “I think so… I mean, Cami is great. We get along well, and she loves me. She embraces my culture and understands the kinds of pressures we would live with given that I’m the Avatar and the last Airbender. I believe we could have a happy life together. And you know as well as I do that,” his voice sliding to a tone of mock importance, “I can’t wait much longer to ‘repopulate my people’. So it is high-time I get married, don’t you think?”

“Ah, but none of those things you just mentioned answers my question to you, Aang my friend.” Bumi took a distressingly rattling breath, then asking, “Are you sure that Cami is your Iralee?”

Aang contemplated this question. At one time, Aang had been sure he had found his Iralee; that Katara was unequivocally meant to be the one for him. But he had been wrong, hadn’t he? 

He remembered coming to see Bumi during those first months after their break-up. When Katara had rejected him, Aang had struggled profusely to cope; he had vacillated between denial and anger and then a deep depression and extreme anxiety. It was as though the weight and tragedy of his life had finally fallen upon his young shoulders, and he was crumbling under the burden alone. In the past Aang had always been a remarkably resilient person; despite losing so much, his natural optimism helped him through the grief of losing his people; and of course, at that time he had always had Katara.

Katara had gone with him the first time he had returned to the Southern Air Temple after the war. That was before Chief Hakoda’s insistence on a chaperone, and it had been just he and Katara.

The very first time he had returned to his native temple shortly after being freed from the iceberg had not gone well. His grief and anger had driven him into the Avatar State, and were it not for Katara, he’s not sure if he wouldn’t have blown the whole temple off the mountain peak. So when he determined to return to his childhood home again after the war, he was more than a little reticent. He was afraid of what he might see. And what he might not see. And of himself in either of those situations.

But Katara had encouraged him to go, and she had promised to be by his side. She had held him by the hand and pulled him gently forward when he wanted to retreat, and cried with him when he grieved. She had braced him when he was sure he would fall apart; she had been there to hold him together. Katara had helped him to see that this place could be a place of life again – that it did not always need to be a tomb. Together they had put the souls of his friends and mentors to rest.

The Air Nomads had a sacred rite called the Soaring of the Dead that they performed at the passing of souls into the Eternal Sky. Aang had seen it done, even participated in the chants and in helping to ring the chimes with airbending, but he had never officiated the ceremony himself. But it was important to him that he try, that he do this for his kindred.

Katara had helped him to search for instructions for how to perform this ceremony in the few remaining scripts and scrolls that had not burned in the inferno of the genocide. There was precious little to work with. None of the scrolls contained what Aang was looking for, but he carefully wrapped them and placed them in a stone box for preservation regardless. They were not what he needed right now, but they were valuable relics of his culture. 

However, later while exploring one of the sanctuaries, Katara had found a stone wall etched with the sacred words of the funeral rite, half-crumbled in an alcove. She couldn’t read the script, since it was Air Nomad writing, but there had been a small illustration that looked promising. And Aang could read it. He carefully wrote the prayers down; then translated them into the common written characters used by all four nations. He tried not to ponder on the fact that he was likely the only person alive who could read the writing; too much dwelling on thoughts like that was incredibly isolating.

The etching did not contain any instructions for how to perform the rite, but the prayer was something and a blessing to have. Aang would need to work from memory for the rest. Normally this rite would be performed with every member of the monastery present and participating. But it was only he and Katara. He had been grateful that she was willing to perform it with him. 

They had gone to the top of the tallest tower to an open sanctuary, a round room with five floor-to-ceiling windows. There once had been soft white curtains that would dance in the wind in these windows, but those were long since burned away. At the center of the round room stood a circular alter, carved with sky bison, birds and other flying creatures, all traveling in a spiral towards the top of the alter. On one side between two of the tall windows a brass half-moon wash basin had been inlaid in the wall. When they arrived the basin had lain on the floor, broken off from the wall. But Aang, using earthbending, had reattached it to the wall and reinforced it with a pedestal underneath. Then Katara using waterbending had washed the basin and filled it with clean, clear water she had brought in her water pouch.

After lighting incense around the perimeter of the room, Katara and Aang had washed one another’s hands, feet and foreheads with water from the basin. Then using different colored chalk powders Aang had crushed from surrounding minerals they dabbed markings on the backs of their hands, the tops of their feet and on their foreheads (for Aang this was on the tips of his arrows). They did not have the traditional ceremonial robes, but Aang knew they were doing their best with what they had.

Aang had shown Katara how to play the singing bowl, and after a few tries she managed to ring out strong the long sorrowful continuous song made from running the wooden mallet around the outer edge of the large brass bowl. Normally chimes and flutes would be played as well, but given their numbers, and the need for airbending with the other instruments, Aang had decided on playing just the singing bowl. 

Aang had taught her the simple chant, and the two had repeated it in the resonance of the singing bowl. Then Aang spoke the words of the prayer, sprinkling handfuls of the calk powder onto the altar, into five separate piles, of five different colors. Normally, at this point all the attendants present would send their air currents spiraling low into the center around the alter, but since Aang was the only airbender, he “doubled” his air to cover Katara’s portion. Then after the final words of the prayer, Katara repeating after Aang the last words blessing the departed souls with a smooth journey on gentle breezes, Aang sent his spiraling air up and over the altar, picking up the five piles of colored calk, combining the colors in a swirl. The colors swirled for a time mixing and dancing, until Aang sent the colored air up and out in all directions through the tall open windows of the sanctuary, until it was carried away, liberated on the strong mountain winds. Aang closed his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest, hands with three fingers extended, thumb and forefinger making an O. Katara mimicked his actions. Then both opened their arms wide, sending their positive energy out with the chalk into the wind, to escort the souls of their loved ones on kind breezes into the Endless Wind of the Eternal Sky.

Aang knew that the ceremony had been foreign and strange to Katara, but she had willingly and respectfully participated, knowing the sacredness of this moment for Aang and his people. And it had meant more than he could say that she had been there with him to send the souls of his family into the Great Next.

That night he had held her close, tucking her head under his chin as they reclined on their bed rolls. He had stroked her hair, waiting until she had drifted off to sleep. Then he recited softly from memory a prayer of gratitude. His gratitude had been for her, that she had not left him to do this alone. But that she had born his burden with him. … And that he had loved her more in that moment than ever before, choking on his emotion as he cradled in his arms the person that embodied the rebirth of all the love of his people. He had thought then that she was his future; she would be the reason this place would be filled with Life again. And in that moment he had symbolically allowed the souls of those he’d lost to rest, and turned toward the future. He had smiled, content and at peace.

So when Bumi asked him if Cami was his Iralee, Aang knew deep down that she was not, that only one person could be that for him. But “his Iralee” had not wanted him in the end. So what was he to do except to turn his face to the future and move on? Only this time he could not manage to do so content and at peace. 

“She is, Bumi,” Aang lied. “She has to be.”

………

Bumi had looked at Aang with a skeptical sideways squint when Aang had affirmed that Cami was indeed his Iralee. But the old king had chosen not to challenge him. Instead he seemed to change subjects altogether.

“You remember what I told you about Jings?”

“Of course, Bumi. There is Positive Jing in attacking and Negative Jing in retreating, and also Neutral Jing, when one does nothing.”

“It is critical to know how to execute which kind of Jing, and when. But this is applicable in life as much, or perhaps even more so, than in a fight.”

Bumi had shifted in his bed, drawing the covers up over his frail shoulders. “I suggest that if you are not sure whether to move forward or retreat, perhaps you should do nothing for a time. Find quiet in Neutral Jing; then when the sign comes, you will know what to do.”

………

Katara awoke with a start. She had been dreaming of a memory from long ago, of when she had performed the ceremony of the Soaring of the Dead with Aang. The dream was a muddle, mostly just emotions and images, and a swirling of color. In her dream she had felt full and at peace. She had breathed deeply the smell of incense on Aang’s tunic as she had laid her head on his shoulder. But then the two of them had suddenly dropped; falling from the air as though the whole mountain had disappeared from under them. And she had woken, startled.

It was then that she noticed the second knock at the door. She scrambled out of the furs on her bed, slipping her feet into her fur-lined boots. She was still pulling on a warm robe, when Urik opened the door and let himself into her small boarding room. It irritated her just a little that he had not waited for her to open the door, but she let it slide.

“Good morning, Beautiful!” Urik smiled as he strode to her side and pulled her to him with his large hand on the small of her back. He leaned in for a kiss. Karata turned her head at the last moment, the kiss ending up on her cheek. They had progressed in their relationship to the point that kisses between them were commonplace, but something about the lingering emotions from her dream had her turning her head.

“Good morning, Urik. And to what do I owe this early wake-up call?”

“Not early. Right on time.” He replied cheekily. “Because we have plans! How about a gondola ride through the upper canals? I packed us breakfast!” he said waving a tiger-seal skin bag.

“That sounds great, Urik. Just give me a moment to change my clothes.”

“Oh, sure thing,” Urik said, taking a seat facing her, like he was settling down for a show, “Feel free to take your clothes off anytime, I don’t mind.” Katara startled at his racy remark, and blushed at the same time she felt mild irritation flare. 

“Oh get out!” she swatted his arm and shooed him out the door. Urik had become more and more bold with her as her time at the North Pole wore on. The two were clearly a couple, but he was undoubtedly the more committed of the two. Although they were dating, and quite seriously in fact, Katara had needed to put the brakes on some of Urik’s advances fairly frequently. For all of her exposure to the world, she was still a watertribe girl, and her sense of propriety was deeply rooted in tradition.

Not to mention that ever since seeing grown-up Aang at the Fire Nation Palace, Katara had found her thoughts ever frequently wandering in his direction. Frankly she had missed her best friend terribly over the years, and it wasn’t until seeing him again that she had truly realized how much his absence had left an empty space within her. She found herself longing for his company again. She also recognized that this was part of why she had not sought him out, had not replied to his letters or met him in Kyoshi. Because she knew that she simply didn’t have the will power to have Aang in her life in moderation; it was either she was his -- body, heart and mind -- or she simply could not handle having anything to do with him.

And given what she had witnessed happening outside Cami’s room at the Fire Palace, and what she assumed happened inside Cami’s room, she knew that Aang was already lost to her. In the Water Tribe, physical relations between a man and a woman were reserved strictly for marriage. That to be together in that way, was as much a binding covenant as the marriage ceremony itself. So in her mind, at this point, Aang was already married, he and Cami were already One.

But that didn’t stop her from missing him. It didn’t stop her from longing for the boy she had thrown away. She regretted letting him leave, and for never repairing their rift. Her body ached to be held by him, and to hold him in return. To bask in that mutual support and understanding they had shared. She knew it was wrong to think about a committed man this way, but she found her mind traipsing through these forbidden paths unbidden. 

Then there was Urik… and she had to admit that he was a wonderful distraction. Urik was handsome and charming and he was clearly smitten with her. He was funny and considerate (if not sometimes too forward), and he spoiled her rotten. Of all the men she had dated (sans one air-scooter-riding Avatar) she liked him the best. Most days, when she was with Urik, she didn’t missed Aang. 

However, every night once Katara returned to her room, when she was alone again and her mind unoccupied with other diversions, thoughts of Aang always returned. As though her missed opportunities with him would haunt her forever…

……….


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to Lawsalor -- its because of you that I'm continuing this story. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 7

Aang sat legs crossed lotus style, hands fisted together, his eyes closed. A half-drunk cup of onion-banana juice set by his side. He was cleansing his chakras. A task he had performed a few times since Guru Patik had taught him all those years ago. 

Aang had not seen Guru Patik since his first and only encounter with him at the Eastern Air Temple before the end of the war. Aang had many things he wanted to ask the Guru; however, Aang was not sure where the old hermit had gone, nor where to even begin looking for him. It would seem that Aang would need to content himself with remembering what the sage old man had taught him, continuing to glean insight from his teachings over time.

Although Aang had long ago become a fully realized Avatar, he found that periodically cleansing his chakras, in a slightly simplified way, was still beneficial – not to access the Avatar State (that skill he always could access), but to open his chi pathways, harmonizing his Body, Mind and Spirit. This highly spiritual practice brought greater balance within himself and focus to his moral compass.

Early on, Aang had been able to reopen his chakras without much trouble. Even the final chakra, the Thought Chakra, remained open with wisdom gained from conversations with both Avatar Roku and Avatar Kuruk in the Spirit World, the two past Avatars helping him to understand that it was still possible to love someone without attachment.

However, as Guru Patik had said, life is messy, and things tended to fall in the pools, blocking the pathways and obstructing his access to clarity and personal peace. Initially his break-up with Katara had symbolically dropped a whole load of messy obstructions into his pools causing trouble with several of the charkas becoming cluttered. For a while he had been troubled with fear, guilt, shame and grief, blocking his first four chakras, as well as complicating his already complicated thought chakra, as he reevaluated his earthy attachments. 

However, even though Aang would likely always regret the consequences of his explosion in the South Pole, over time, he had learned to forgive himself and come to a healthy spiritual place. He had become a whole person again, having regained balance within himself. 

Today Aang sat meditating and clearing his Air Chakra, the chakra that deals with love, and is blocked by grief. A few years ago, right after their break-up, this chakra had given him a lot of pain. His love for Katara had been his greatest tool in combating his grief over his lost people. It was as though the prospect of a future with her had helped him to turn away from his harrowing past. But with that hoped-for future gone, Aang seemed to once again drown in the isolation left behind by his extinct people. 

However, over time, Aang had relearned that the love of his people for him had not disappeared, and would someday return to him, even if he could no longer picture the face of Katara as its embodiment. But the love was not gone. He still sighed in longing, but felt the chakra’s energy running clear and open.

Aang moved on to his Sound Chakra, the chakra of truth that was blocked by lies. An image of Cami appeared before him. She was lovely in her yellow and orange robes, hair blowing lightly in the breeze; she smiled at him. But as he watched her, he saw that the path she stood upon began to move away from him, as the path he was on began to veer to the right. He looked after her, but saw that as he did so, she turned away from him and began walking down her own path, eventually disappearing into the orange mists of a beautiful sunset. He knew at that moment that he loved Cami. But he was not in love with Cami. And it had been a lie, to both her and himself, to pretend that he was. It was also a lie to believe that his responsibilities to the Air Nomads excused marrying a woman he did not love. Truth rang out like a gong in his soul, as he knew, without a doubt, that he would have to dissolve his relationship with Cami. He now recognized that this was a truth he had known deep down for some time, but he had allowed other pressures to convince him to believe the lie. In his meditative state, eyes still shut, he sighed in both relief and sadness.

But Aang was not done. His focus moved on to his Light Chakra, the chakra that dealt with insight and illusion. As he let his mind release and focus on what illusions he might believe, again a vision came to his consciousness. He found himself on an airball court, surrounded by other airbenders playing the game. He was standing lightly on one of the wooden poles in the middle of the court, the other airbenders playing as though they could not see him. He did not recognize these airbenders, and subconsciously he knew, as the vision was engulfed in clouds, that this was a vision of the future. Tears sprang to his closed eyes as he realized that his people would not disappear, but that they had a place in the future. A weight seemed to lift from his shoulders as his worry gave way to hope. The Air Nomads would return.

As this happy realization expanded in his heart, Aang’s vision began to change once again. This time he was wearing his finest Air Nomad robes, the fabric light and pleasant on his skin, heavy wooden beads hanging from his neck. An altar appeared before him and he knelt before it. The altar had a space for someone to kneel across from him, but there was no one there. He waited, and yet no one arrived to join him. He looked about, and saw that Katara was in the distance; his heart lurched for her. But she did not approach; she remained beautiful in her water tribe blues far away from him. He looked again at the empty place across from him. Then he stood. Turning towards where he had seen Katara, resolve solidified in his heart and he ran after her.

Suddenly the ground changed to the purple cosmic pathway that lead to his giant glorified Avatar image, its eyes and tattoos glowing. He had moved on to the Thought chakra, the chakra that dealt with pure cosmic energy. He easily ran the length of the path, slowing to a walk he climbed into the swirling purple orb of power hovering between his Avatar image’s palms. Inside the orb he opened his eyes, glowing with power and peace. 

In the real world, Aang’s tattoos glowed with power, the air around his meditating form swirling lightly. When the light diminished, Aang opened his eyes. New insight radiating in his countenance. 

Aang knew what he needed to do.  
………

Katara read the letter in her hand again, considering the best way to reply.

This was the second letter she had received from her father in the last month asking when she was coming home to the South Pole. She had now been living and teaching in the North Pole for over three months. In that time more than one ship had traveled back to her home in the South, so she could have returned already if she had wished. But she stayed.

And she knew why she stayed. It was for Urik. Their relationship had progressed quickly, getting serious almost immediately. Both were well past the typical marrying age in the Watertribes. Most women in her culture would be married in their teens starting as early as sixteen; Katara would be twenty-three before the end of the year – an age considered quite old to remain unwed. It was not uncommon for men to marry as late as their mid-twenties, but most still married early. Urik had just turned twenty-six, and he was clearly anxious to settle down.

And he wanted to settle down with Katara, that much was clear. Although he had not asked her to marry him outright yet, he had not been subtle in his aims, and she anticipated that he may ask her soon. She was still not quite sure how she would respond. Part of her was excited at the prospect of getting married; she had wanted a family of her own for years. And she could almost picture Urik in her imagined future family. On some days she could picture him in her life as her husband and the father of her children. On other days, she couldn’t quite make the image fit…

For whatever reason Katara had yet to tell her Father or Sokka that she was dating Urik. She had mentioned in a letter early on that she had run into him again in the North, but not the nature of their relationship. She wondered if either of them suspected her reasons for lingering. She looked at the letter again and wondered if she ought to tell them now?

She got out her brush and ink, and scribbled a reply stating that she would be staying at the North Pole some time longer, as she had teaching responsibilities here she wanted to see through. 

…She did not mention Urik.

……..

Aang returned home from his intense hiatus reopening his chakras both fatigued and hungry. He had traveled to a nearby mountain peak, one within view of the Southern Air Temple, but not accessible by others without airbending. With the exception of the onion & banana juice, Aang had not eaten anything since his departure the evening of the day before yesterday; it was now well after sunset and the temple was quiet.

He assumed that no one was awake, but upon entering the dormitory section of the temple on his way to his room, he sensed the footsteps of someone he recognized. He turned to see Cami walking toward him from the dark hallway. He was simultaneously captivated by her elegance, and pained by it. 

“Aang, Honey, its so late. I was worried about you.” She wrapped her arms around him, lifting up on her toes so she could rest her chin on his shoulder. She felt small and delicate in his arms; it made him want to protect her. For a moment he wanted to forget what he had learned earlier that day in his visions.

“I’m sorry, Cami. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I’m just glad you are home safely,” she said still holding him, her lips close to his ear. She pulled back slightly, brushing her cheek against his, then gently brushing her lips on his.

He turned his head away.

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly at the rejection. “What’s wrong, Honey?”

Aang had hoped to delay speaking with her at least until the morning. He didn’t want to hurt her. And he didn’t want to loose her. He thought of her mother, and sisters and Mantou – he ached to think that he would lose them as family as well. But he knew that her path and his would no longer take the same course, and he owed it to her to finally be honest with her.

“Cami… I want you to know that I care about you. Deeply. And I am ever grateful for your love and goodness. You are more than a man could ask for, and I have been far too undeserving of you.”

Her gaze searched his face, concern etched on her forehead. She was obviously wary of where this was going. Aang hated himself in that moment. But he had to continue.

“And although I love you…” Aang looked her pleadingly in the eyes, “I have realized that I am not in love with you…”Aang’s mouth tasted like betrayal as he spoke the next words, “…and I know now that I can’t marry you, Cami.”

A gasp. Her green eyes looking at his sharply, searching for a lie, her eyes begging him to be lying. “What?!” she gasped in a small voice, shrugging away from him. She now faced to the side, looking at nothing. “Aang, what do you mean?!” She turned to him again, “I love you! I want to spend the rest of my life with you! I don’t understand…”

Shame slid into Aang’s stomach like a stone into water. But he couldn’t take it back. For both their sakes he couldn’t keep living the lie.

“Cami,” his voice plead, “I’m so, so sorry… I never, ever wanted to hurt you!”

She turned back to him, pinning him with her intense green eyes brimming with tears, “Well its too late for that!” her voice cut surprisingly harsh, then turned into a sob. “How could you do this to me, Aang?!”

He reached his arms out to her, but stopped them half-way up, frozen, knowing he couldn’t embrace her, but wanting more than anything to make it all better. For a brief moment he desperately wanted to take it all back, to gather her into his arms and kiss away her tears, assuring her that it was all a lie, and that he loved her.

But unfortunately Aang knew what it felt like to be desperately and passionately in love. And he knew that with Cami something was missing. Perhaps it was the fact that his soul had lived a thousand lifetimes, and had likely had a thousand lifetimes of falling in love. Perhaps that was why it had been so easy to fall in love with Katara as a kid; because his ancient soul had recognized true love when it felt it. And what he had with Cami? A thousand lifetimes told him he was pretending.

“I… I’m so sorry, Cami!... I just…” he didn’t know how to finish the sentence. And she didn’t wait for him to.

“Good night, Aang.” Cami’s voice cut him off, small and strangled, “I need to go.” She turned and escaped back toward the dark hallway she had come from, silent streams of heartbreak running down her cheeks.

Aang stood there in the dark looking after her retreating form, unable to move. Feeling entirely retched.

……… 

For the next few days, Aang hardly saw Cami. Whenever he did catch a glimpse of her, she dodged his gaze, her eyes red rimed, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. Once nearly a week later he had caught her looking at him from across the cafeteria, longing in her eyes. But when their eyes locked, she seemed to see something there, a reality that made her look down, broken resignation on her face. This was torture for them both. 

That evening Cami timidly approached him, avoiding his eyes, but asking if she could move to the Eastern Air Temple. She told him, voice trembling that she still wanted to be an Air Acolyte if he would let her (of course he would let her!) but that being at the Southern Air Temple with him was just too hard right now. Aang felt awful. But he understood. 

Within a week, Cami left with the first crew of Air Acolytes chosen to journey to the Eastern Air Temple to start restoration. From the tower Aang had watched her go, her hair and robes blowing in the breeze. He felt relieved; and he felt guilty for feeling relieved. He cursed himself for hurting her this way. And he mourned the loss of his friend. 

And when she was gone, he felt very, very alone.

…….

Over the next week, Aang spent a lot of time contemplating his visions. He understood some parts, like that despite how painful it was right now, that Cami would one day follow a path that would lead her to happiness, represented by the beautiful sunset she disappeared into in his vision. He was confident that good things awaited her, despite their shared misery right now.

He thought of kneeling at the altar, and looking away to see Katara in the distance. He knew that he would go after her. He did not know if he would catch her, or if she would ever join him at the altar; but he was sure that he must try to win her back!

So despite his banishment, he headed for the Southern Water Tribe. 

In returning to the South Pole, Aang knew that he had more than one relationship to mend. He knew that it was time to bring resolution to his association with the Southern Water Tribe. It would not do for the world’s Avatar to be estranged from half of an entire nation. 

It was just mid-morning when he saw the village-turned-city come into view. Appa lowed and Aang patted his furry head. “Don’t be nervous, Buddy. It’s been a long time; maybe they’ve forgiven me by now… And if Chief Hakoda wants me to get out of the city…” his voice and brow hardening, “He’s welcome to try to make me.”

………..

In the past, Aang had always been considerate to land Appa just outside the village limits, not wanting to barge into the center of town. But today Aang guided Appa, landing in the clearing right in front of the Tribe Counsel building; today he planned to be anything but subtle. Everyone was going to know he had come, and he was going to face this head-on. This was something he should have done a long ago.

The Southern Water Tribe had indeed boomed in growth and construction, however, Chief Hakoda had not adopted all of the grandeur of the royalty in the North. He had chosen to keep the Counsel building smaller, with a dome construction, like a large igloo, the circular arrangement allowing for each person present to have an equal voice in discussing the affairs of the Tribe. Chief Hakoda was mid-discussion with his two closest counselors when he heard the bison groan and land heavily on the snow outside the building.

Although he had not heard that sound here in years, Hakoda knew immediately who had arrived. The two sitting with him on their fur carpets on the raised dais - his son, Sokka, and his best friend and most trusted advisor, Bato - both gave him a meaningful look, but none spoke as they awaited the entrance of the Avatar.

Aang pushed aside the heavy blanket that coved the doorway and ducked slightly to enter through the door. Since other tribe members had handled most all of his tribe’s foreign affairs, Sokka being their main Foreign Affairs Representative, Hakoda had not seen Aang in years. But there was no mistaking the distinctly Air Nomad clothing, facial features and blue arrow tattoo on the Avatar’s forehead. The boy had grown, and stood before him today a young man, tall and filled-out, all the little boy gone from his face. As he entered, Sokka and Bato both stood in a show of respect; Hakoda, however, remained seated, legs crossed on his fur on the dais. 

Aang raised one eyebrow slightly at Hakoda’s lack of response. He had not expected a warm greeting, but the coolness of his reception still stung. Nonetheless, Aang approached and bowed respectfully, hand to fist, in greeting. 

“Chief Hakoda, it is good to see you.”

A pause. Hakoda had never had a problem with Aang personally; in fact, he respected the boy and admired his courage and valiance. Hakoda had been a bit in awe that even as a child, Aang had shown such loyalty and willingness to sacrifice for the world. This, coupled with his playful, lighthearted temperament, had made him a remarkably easy person to like. However, Hakoda’s views had begun to change when he saw how attached Aang had grown to his only daughter. “The Great Avatar” had been ‘mortalized’ in Hakoda’s mind; becoming a boy with faults and shortcomings, and one whose role and nationality could put his daughter in danger and rob her of her heritage. Objectively, Hakoda still had respect for the boy, but he did not want him with his daughter. So it was with some conflicting emotions that Hakoda finally spoke coolly, “Avatar.”

Aang bowed briefly to the two beside Hakoda. “Bato, Sokka.”

But before they could reply Hakoda interjected, “Why are you here, Avatar? Have you brought bad news that affects my tribe?”

“No… I don’t bring bad news.” Aang hesitated, “But I am here with a matter that affects your tribe.” He looked Hakoda in the eye, caution in his voice as he broached the sensitive topic. “I am here to mend our rift. I am sorry for what happened the last time I was here, Hakoda. You have no idea how much I have regretted my actions and the consequences that resulted.”

All eyes turned to Hakoda as he contemplated his position on the matter. “I see…” then his blue eyes flashed, “But you must see that the way you treated those members of my tribe cannot be overlooked, Avatar…”

Aang’s back stiffened. “Enough with this ‘Avatar’ nonsense, Hakoda! Call me ‘Aang’. Quit hiding behind my title so you can pretend like you don’t know me.” Hakoda didn’t respond so Aang went on. “I know that I messed up! But you also know that I was young, and I made a mistake!”

“You attacked members of my tribe!”

“I lost my temper and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt Katara.” 

“You threw my daughter!”

“I loved your daughter!” Aang blurt out forcefully, his eyes penetrating. “… and that moment has haunted me more than you can imagine!”

Something in Hakoda’s blue eyes softened slightly, something like sympathy and guilt crossing his expression.

Aang let out a deep breath and continued in a more humble voice, “And it will not do for the Avatar to forever be estranged from the whole of the Southern Water Tribe. I want to be at your service; to aid your tribe as I strive to do for the rest of the world.”

Hakoda regarded Aang, recognizing the sincerity and remorse in his eyes. He swallowed down the bitter taste of his own guilt as he reflected on his own selfish reasons for allowing the boy to suffer all this time, for maintaining the rift between him and his Tribe. Hakoda had gotten what he had wanted: Aang and Katara were no longer together; in fact they were no longer even friends. He swallowed the taste of remorse again. Perhaps it was time to forgive the Avatar his trespasses. 

Hakoda rose to his feet, approaching Aang. “Perhaps you are right… Aang.” Hakoda extended his hand, “I do not wish for that moment to forever divide my people from their Avatar.”

Aang looked at his outstretched arm. And gripped it in the traditional water tribe way, grasping forearms. His voice a little husky as he replied, “Thank you, Hakoda. And I hope that the division between the two of us can heal as well.”

………..

The conflict between his father and the Avatar tentatively mended, Sokka rose from his seated position and stepped down off the raised platform at the front of the Counsel Room and threw an arm around Aang’s shoulders.

“Aang, buddy! Let’s say you and I go out for a walk and catch up?”

Aang smiled. Although his relationship with the Southern Water Tribe officially had been strained, his relationship with Sokka had remained close. They did not often see one another outside of official world leader gatherings, but Sokka had made an effort to show Aang that he was still his friend.

Sokka and Aang exited the building to find quite a crowd gathered around Appa. Whispers increased in volume as the crowd spotted Aang, no doubt re-telling the story that got the Avatar banished from the South Pole four years ago. But Sokka stepped forward confidently, raising an arm to get everyone’s attention, his voice announcing, “Everyone! We would like to welcome Avatar Aang back to our Tribe! Mistakes of the past have been officially settled; what happened in the past is in the past. We can now count ourselves blessed to have the Avatar back in our midst as our Brother once again!”

Surprised murmurs rose from the crowd, and although not all the looks Aang received were welcoming, the crowd in general seemed less suspicious of him, although the whispering continued. Aang searched the crowd for a certain face, and although he recognized many, he did not see the face he was looking for.

“Come on, Aang. Lets get Appa to somewhere less… well, less right here. I’m sure we can find him somewhere more comfortable on the outskirts of the city.”

……….

“So… where is your fiancée? Cami, was it? Didn’t she want to brave the snow or something?”

Sokka was leaning one shoulder against the outer wall, watching as Aang bent a shelter for Appa out of ice, using the existing outer wall as one of the supporting sides for the three-walled covering. Aang had already removed Appa’s saddle, which was heavily laden with hay and vegetables for Appa (and sometimes Aang himself) to eat while in the South Pole.

Aang looked back at him, an embarrassed red creeping up to his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his head. “Oh… right… well, um… actually, Cami, well, we um… sort of… well we broke up…”

“Oh!” Sokka pushed off the wall in surprise. “Really?! Oh well, I’m… well I’m sorry to hear that.”

Aang cleared his throat, turned to the saddle, and unloaded a large armful of straw for Appa’s dinner. “Yeah, its um… well, it just didn’t feel right in the end. Cami is a great girl, and I care about her a lot, but well… it’s just not like it was with… well I mean, I just felt like maybe something was missing.”

A slow smirk crept its way onto Sokka’s face, “So… does your visit to the South Pole have anything to do with your breakup?”

“What?! I don’t know what you mean!” Aang’s ears turning a little red again.

“Yeah? So the fact that your are single again has nothing to do with your sudden appearance on our doorstep?”

“No! Of course not!”

“So then, you wouldn’t care to see Katara while you’re here then? You’re not curious if she’s single right now?”

Aang’s eyes widened a little, “is she single right now?!” Then back-pedaling, “I mean, no, I didn’t come here for that. I mean, maybe I would like to see her, but I mean, she’s not the main reason I came… not exactly at least…” Aang stammered completely unconvincingly.

“Well I don’t know… I’m not sure my father would have absolved you of your sins if he had known you weren’t still getting married next month.” Sokka smirked cheekily, “Very sneaky, Avatar!”

Aang’s eyebrows rose contritely (and simultaneously completely guilty as charged). “Well, I… had considered that I might want to ask forgiveness before I, um… well before I try… I mean, if Katara…” again he petered off dopily. “Well, I mean… so where is Katara?”

“So you’re still pining after my sister after all these years, eh?”

Aang looked sheepish. “Well… um, no. But… yeah. I guess I sort of am.”

“Aang… buddy. You know it’s been a long time. I don’t know if there is much chance of that now. I mean, the two of you haven’t spoken in years.”

“Well actually… I saw Katara in the Fire Nation just over three months ago. And I can’t stop thinking about her since! I mean, I’ve never been able to stop thinking about her, not really. But you know, since then… well, it’s just been worse.” Aang’s expression suddenly turned serious, “Sokka, I know that I have responsibilities to the world, and to the Air Nomads. Someday I have to get married, and I will fulfill my responsibilities; but, I just have to try… I mean… I can’t get married to someone else until Katara is… until she is absolutely no longer an option for me. When she is married, I will move on… but my heart won’t be satisfied until I at least try to win her back while I still have a chance!”

Sokka looked at Aang considering him, deciding whether he would drag this out some more or have mercy on the poor kid. Apparently mercy won out and he went with the later. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but Katara’s not in the South Pole right now. She’s been in the North ever since she left the Fire Nation. Not sure all she’s doing up there, teaching some waterbending classes or something. But, I’m sorry. She’s not here.”

Aang’s shoulders sagged dejectedly.

But Sokka turned to Aang with a full mischievous smile, “So… I guess you need to get up there and find her then, eh?”

……..

“You want me to what?”

It was late in the Northern Water Tribe, the full moon shining brightly on the couple standing close together on a tall peaked bridge near the top of the city. The two had a perfect view overlooking the canals and ocean, the water sparkling with Yue’s reflection. 

But Urik wasn’t looking at the view, his admiring eyes looked earnestly down at Katara as he curled his gift in her mittened hand, which he then clutched between both of his large gloved hands. 

“I want you to marry me, Katara.”

The chill air was still. Little puffs of steam rose into the night air with each breath she took, but Katara was warm in her fur-lined coat, and in the embrace of this man who wanted to be her husband. He was handsome tonight, his eyes glowing with the intensity of his anticipation and desire. 

Katara looked down at the gift in her hands, uncurling her fist to admire the beautiful carved stone fastened on the wide blue band. The stone was not round like her Mother’s but oval with two waves coming from the sides and uniting at the center – a symbol of their water tribes uniting. It was a fine piece of craftsmanship. She was gripped with a sudden desire to put it on; and then to give it back all at once.

This felt different from how she had felt with Aang. This was older and wiser: a mature choice. She and Aang had been stupid kids, with idealized notions of love saturated in unabashed youthful naiveté. They had held each other and gazed into the stars, imagining a future together that could never have been. Young love was a potent drug, but one that couldn’t last… that couldn’t withstand the tests of time. They hadn’t lasted. They had fallen apart with as much passion as they had come together with in the first place. No, that had been a silly dream, an unrealistic fantasy held by two sentimental kids. Denying this, for that, would be utter stupidity. 

Katara looked out over the beautiful city, the water sparkling in the moonlight. She breathed in the intoxicating power of her element. She belonged in the water tribes. Here or in the South. This was her birthright, was it not? This is what she had wanted from the time she was a tiny girl curled up in the warmth of her family’s igloo. It was time for her to take her future, and grasp it in her mittened hands like the fine piece of jewelry cradled there now. She wasn’t a child anymore; she was all grown up. And this was the future she desired, standing right in front of her. And she would be a fool to turn away from this man and the life he offered her.

Katara reached up and unclasped her Mother’s necklace, her neck feeling naked as she took it off. Urik beamed, eagerly clasping his necklace in its place against her warm brown skin. For a moment, the stone was very cold on her neck. But she knew it would warm.

“Yes, Urik,” She looked up at him with a smile, “I will marry you.”

The stone was warming already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure why all the italicized words in my doc are no longer italicized... anyone know how to fix that? Sorry if it doesn't read as well, but I'm not sure exactly why it doesn't show up just like I wrote it in Word. Oh well. 
> 
> Please leave a comment!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish formatting was easier for me on this site. But I can't quite figure out how to italicize anything. So sorry if the story doesn't read like I wish it did...
> 
> You are also welcome to check it out on fan fiction.net -- all the formatting is correct over there.

When Aang had broken his engagement to Cami, no formal announcements were made. The news just trickled out gradually. Starting with Aang quietly sending word to Bumi, and Bumi’s subsequent ceasing to move forward with wedding arrangements. Aang knew he needed to let the world leaders who had been formally invited to the celebrations know as well, but he was loath to do it. 

He worried about what would be said and how it would affect Cami. As much as he disliked being a topic of gossip, Aang was fairly used to it at this point. He hated that by being associated with him, Cami could also be subject to the speculation of the masses.

The Air Acolytes were an isolated, tight-knit group with strong loyalties to one another. Although Aang knew that some gossip had been exchanged, whispering and guessing about what had gone wrong between him and Cami, for the most part the Acolytes were compassionate and understanding. If there had been any taking of sides, they had rallied around Cami even more so than him, which in all honestly Aang preferred. He had been the one to break her heart; he had been the one to lead her on. And he was glad that Cami had the support of the other Acolytes.

But what was being said elsewhere in the world was another story. On his way up to the North Pole after leaving the Southern Water Tribe, Aang had stopped in several Earth Kingdom towns to rest and buy supplies for he and Appa. Even in these towns, news of his broken engagement seemed to be common knowledge already. Rumors of why they had broken up were varied and salacious. Some conjectured that the girl had been of poor background, and was found unworthy of the Avatar. Some theorized that Cami had been infertile, and therefore rejected by the Avatar due to his need to father the new generation of Air Benders. Others speculated about infidelity, while the more malicious ventured that Aang had “tasted the wares” and found her “not to his liking”; that he had been dissatisfied with her performance as a lover. These accusations made Aang want to throw up – what cruel and heartless words coming from people who knew nothing about what had happened! And with a sickening feeling, Aang knew that most of the worst of what was said would likely never make it back to him. For not the first time, Aang was glad that Cami was safely tucked away in the remote Eastern Air Temple right now, although he knew that would not shelter her from the cutting words forever. He feared for what her family would be enduring right now already. For what seemed like the millionth time, Aang hated himself for dragging Cami into his life, and for breaking her heart and subjecting her to all of this.

As Aang headed north he wondered how far this talk had spread. Surely rumors had already made it to the Fire Nation. Since Zuko had been invited to the wedding, Aang had sent a hawk to Zuko personally notifying him of their break-up; but he also knew that Zuko wouldn’t be the source of these rumors. Rumors traveled at the speed of the fastest boats and the fastest mouths. Aang did not know if talk of his broken engagement would have traveled as far as the Poles; news tended to trickle much slower to the far-flung Water Tribes. Sokka knew now, obviously, but Aang had not sent news to Chief Arnook, as he planned to inform him personally when he arrived at the North Pole. How much would Katara have heard? How much would she have believed?

Aang gave Appa’s reins another shake, urging Appa to fly a little faster towards the North – the sooner he got the North Pole, hopefully the more damage control he would have over the story that was told.

………

News of Katara and Urik’s betrothal seemed to be collectively rejoiced in the North Pole! Katara didn’t know how, but the whole city seemed to know by the morning after their engagement. She had been surprised on the walk to her early waterbending class when complete strangers stopped her on the street to congratulate her and to admire her new betrothal necklace. She smiled and thanked them genuinely, but with a little bit of embarrassment at so suddenly being the center of this kind of attention.

When she had arrived at the waterbending academy, Urik had swept her up in a spinning hug and kissed her. She pulled back slightly and playfully whacked his shoulder, “Urik! How does everyone know about us already?! I only said yes last night!”

“Oh, good news travels fast!” He’d said jovially. “And I can’t think of better news than making you my wife!”

Chief Arnook himself was supremely happy to have one of his best Northern Waterbender Warriors marrying the famous Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, one of the best Waterbending Masters and healers in the world, celebrated war hero, and daughter of his ally Chief Hakoda. Chief Arnook announced plans for a feast to celebrate their engagement. Celebrations of this kind were not customary, but the Chief insisted that if the wedding would be in the South Pole, then a banquet commemorating their engagement would be held here in the North!

“You better hurry up and ask my Father officially for permission, Urik.” Katara chided him teasingly one day as he walked over to meet her at the close of her waterbending instruction. “You wouldn’t want him to say no and start some kind of war between the water tribes.” She joked, “and what if you can’t afford the brideprice?”

“Oh you know even better than I that in the South those traditions are merely for custom's sake. You and I are free to make this decision on our own.”

“But I wouldn’t try that tactic on my Father. Just because we aren’t as formal in the South doesn’t mean my Father won’t insist on his position being honored. In this case it is better to ask permission than to hope for forgiveness…”

“Then we will head to the South Pole shortly after the banquet – our classes will be on break soon for the Autumn Festival. A perfect time to go and face my in-laws.”

Katara’s thoughts flashed to her mother, who would not be there to be greeted as a mother-in-law to be. Out of habit she reached up to touch her mother’s necklace, but a sting of surprise and sadness passed through her for a moment when she felt Urik’s engagement necklace still unfamiliar in her fingers. But quickly recovering and putting on a smile, she replied, “Alright. We’ll go to my Father for the Autumn Festival.”

“Agreed!” Urik stated as he pulled her body to him again and kissed her.

………..

Upon arriving in the North Pole, Aang went directly to the palace to announce his presence and pay his regards to Chief Arnook. Aang had enough experience as Avatar to know the importance of honoring the positions of those in power. Offense could be taken if it were discovered that he was in the city without first going to meet with the Chief. And Aang didn’t want to offend any more Water Tribe Chiefs…

As soon as he could tactfully get away, Aang hurried out of the Palace and toward the waterbending grounds, the same place he had trained all those years ago with Master Pakku. He had been informed that Katara would be there, and he was eager to find her. Now that he was here, he simply could not wait another moment to see her!

However, when he rounded the corner leading to the training grounds he stopped in his tracks. There, no more than fifteen feet ahead of him, stood Katara. Wrapped in the arms of Urik. Who was kissing her soundly. 

Aang stood wide-eyed in shock. It was like reliving one of the worst moments of his life; the painful memory standing, live, right in front of him. His brow furrowed into a glare, a familiar fire of anger flaring within him as steam literally began to smoke from his fisted hands. Aang closed his eyes tightly to block out the image. He had to consciously open his fists to keep them from bursting into flame as he took slow calming breaths. She wasn’t his, he reminded himself. She hadn’t been for years. But the intensity of his jealousy had not diminished. 

Aang took an involuntary step backward, feeling the undeniable urge to flee before he did something he would regret. But he couldn’t seem to go. Suddenly something hardened in his stomach, the earthbender in him stepping forward as he spoke.

“Oh. Look who I found. I’ve been looking for you, Katara.”

Katara and Urik pulled apart in surprise, Katara’s hand covering her surprised gasp at seeing Aang there, a guilty blush rising to her cheeks. “Aang!”

Urik turned to the Avatar, his brows pulling down in a scowl, clear dislike etched on his features as he demanded, “What are you doing here, Avatar?”

“Oh,” Aang feigned innocence, “is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”

“Maybe because you aren’t wanted.”

“By whom? By you?” Aang turned his head toward Katara, “Or her?”

“I don’t want you coming near Katara!” Urik pulled up two balls of water to his fists from the ice below as he stepped protectively in front of Katara

“Urik!” Katara tried to pull him back by his shoulder.

Undaunted Aang stepped forward. “And since when were you her keeper? Do you make decisions for her now?”

“As a matter of fact, yes! Katara and I are engaged! She’s going to be my wife.”

Shock passed through Aang—actual nausea settling in his gut as he swayed ever so slightly on his feet. He closed his eyes, and swallowed. He felt a little sick. “Wha… what?!”

“You heard me. Katara and I are getting married. And I’ve asked you to leave her alone.”

“Urik!” Katara interjected. “Cut it out. You don’t need to protect me.” And with some irritation, “And you don’t own me either. There’s no need for a fight.”

Urik shook his arm from Katara’s grasp, but let the water drop from his fists. He turned to Katara, “I don’t trust him, Katara. Not after what he did to you last time.”

Katara turned to Aang, who had put a hand to his head, still swaying slightly. “Aang, what are you doing here?”

He looked up at her, and for a moment, she could see everything in his eyes, like an open book that she had read a thousand times before. Her stomach gave a lurch, but then he schooled his expression, his eyes again unreadable. “I came here to talk to you.”

“Why?” Urik interrupted. “What could Katara possibly have to say to you?”

“Urik! Cut it out! I really am capable of handling this on my own.” Then turning to Aang, while trying to maintain some emotional distance from him – her feelings about Aang still in far too tenuous a state. “What do you have to say to me?”

Aang, his eyes on Katara, stepped closer. Urik puffed up his sizable chest and stepped halfway between them. Aang slowly turned his face to Urik, eyes narrowed slightly. “I’d like to speak with Katara alone, if you don’t mind.”

“And what if I do?!”

Katara stepped around Urik and between Urik and Aang, the animosity between the two men almost palpable. “Stop it! Both of you!” Then turning to Urik, “why don’t you go on ahead to the Palace? We are supposed to meet with Chief Arnook about our, um…” her eyes darted to Aang and then back, “our… engagement celebration. I’ll talk with Aang and then meet you there.”

At first Urik didn’t move, but then with a slight push from Katara, he turned in the direction leading to the Palace. “Ok. Fine. But be careful.” And then turning to Aang, his nose wrinkling in threat, “And you keep your distance and keep it short.”

Then he stalked angrily away.

…………

Once Urik was well out of sight, Aang turned to Katara, “Really, Katara? That guy?!?”

Katara wilted for a moment and then squared her shoulders, looking at him defiantly. “What do you care, Aang?! You have Kiki, or whatever her name is. Why should you care who I choose to marry?”

“Cami. Her name is Cami…”

“Oh right. I forgot. All your little fan girls have always just kind of blurred together for me. Sorry.”

Aang’s eyebrows pulled together, “Cami is not a fan girl!”

“Ok, I get it.” Then turning to walk in the same direction Urik had left. “Well, I really do need to get to the Palace, so shall we walk and talk? You can say whatever it is that you came to say while we walk.”

Katara began to walk off of the training ground. For a moment Aang just watched her go, before he strode to catch up with her, his demeanor becoming more contrite.

“I’m sorry, Katara. I didn’t mean to insult you. Or Urik.” Then glancing at her with ache hidden under his expression, “he must be a pretty incredible person… to have … to have won your heart.” The words nearly burned his tongue as he spoke them.

Katara’s stride slowed and her expression softened. Some very complicated emotion vacillating below the surface. “Thanks, Aang… And I’m sorry too… Cami seemed like a really sweet girl…”

Pain crossed Aang’s face again. “Yeah. She is.” A pause, “I don’t deserve her…”

Katara, really not wanting to talk about Aang’s fiancée, quickly interjected, “So what was it you wanted to talk with me about anyway? The North Pole is a long way to come you know, just to chat.”

Aang was quiet for a moment, just the crunch of the snow under their feet as they walked, side by side. Finally Aang spoke up. “I’m not exactly sure how to say what I came her to say; or even if I should… anymore…” A look of deep regret and indecision marring his brow, “… but one thing I do know, is that seeing you in the Fire Nation taught me one thing: that you are important to me, Katara, still important to me. And I hate how things ended… because I messed things up so badly … between us...”

Katara looked at the ground as they walked. “Listen Aang, what happened in the South Pole, what happened between us is in the past. It was a long time ago. And frankly it just doesn’t matter any more. We both made mistakes... and now we need to move on. I mean, we have moved on. Right?”

Another pause… Aang shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. “Well… um… I guess I should tell you that… well that Cami and I broke up. I’m not going to marry her.”

Katara stopped walking. For a split second, the first thing she felt was a tremendous wave of relief, like some great calamity had been narrowly avoided. But almost immediately a myriad of powerful emotions crowded their way to the forefront. What?! Aang wasn’t getting married? But she had finally moved on! She thought that she was finally in a place to let what they had had between them go. How dare he come back and complicate things?! And after she had already ‘come to terms’ with his commitment to Cami?! By Water Tribe custom, Aang and Cami were already sealed together, after what they had done together, they were already “married”. And now he was back here?... Saying that they weren’t?!...

Aang had turned toward her when she had stopped, watching as her face changed from shock to relief and then morphing into something akin to a very fierce anger. Katara’s teeth bared as she lashed out at him, “Aang you snake!” Aang took a surprised step backward at the ferocity in her voice. “How dare you?! How dare you go and bed Cami and then turn right around and drop her!? I’ve always known commitment was a foreign concept to you Air Nomads, but this is a really low blow!”  
Aang staggered back again at her aggression, “What?! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“In the Water Tribe, sex means commitment, a pledge to spend your life together. I guess I was right to run from you, Aang. Or how soon would you have stolen my virtue and then turned around looking for another thrill?!”

Aang’s face went from shock and retreat, to anger and disgust. “So what have you heard? You think you know how things were because of some ignorant gossip?!”

“I haven’t heard anything. I saw you and Cami that night. I saw you both all over each other, barely able to get into her room in time. I’m not an idiot! I can put two and two together, Aang!”

Realization dawned on Aang’s face, followed by a flash of shame. But malice laced his voice as he replied, “Well your math sucks then, because you’ve put two and two together and gotten ten!”

“What?! Are you denying it? What you did to that poor girl, and how you can’t even man up and commit to her?!”

“You don’t know anything!” Aang bellowed. “Why is it you are so ready to believe the worst of me?”

“I don’t know!... It just… it makes it easier!”

“Easier? I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I!”

Tears had sprung to Katara’s eyes. Unable to look at Aang any longer, she began marching toward the palace again, rounding the last corner and stomping up the steps to the grand entrance. Arriving at the bottom of the steps Aang spoke, his voice softer this time, all the anger gone.

“Katara… I never slept with Cami.”

Katara froze, but didn’t turn around.

“We were never together like that. I did care about Cami, a lot… But I realized that I wasn’t in love with her. And I knew that I couldn’t commit my life to a woman I wasn’t in love with.”

Katara’s back was still to him as he took several steps closer to her. “But what I had with you… I mean, what I felt for you…” Finally reaching the step just below her, Aang reached out and took her hand, turning her toward him, “That is what I want. I mean, you are what I…”

“Stop.” Katara pulled her hand away with pleading in her eyes. “Aang, please, just stop.” She swallowed as the first tear finally overflowed her brimming eyes and traveled down her beautiful cheek. She brushed it away, looking away from him. “I can’t let you continue.”

“Katara!” Urik’s voice boomed to her from the entrance of the Palace, startling them both. They looked to see both Urik and Chief Arnook exiting through the large palace columns.

Katara brushed again at her cheeks, trying to look like nothing had happened. But as Urik quickly approached he took one look at her red eyes and turned on Aang. Trying to speak quietly so that Arnook wouldn’t hear, Urik hissed, “What did you do to her?!”

But Katara intervened before things could escalate, “Nothing! He didn’t do anything. We’re fine. Just finished our chat.” And then turning to Aang and speaking formally, “It was good to catch up. And I wish you the best with your life’s next steps, whatever they are.”

Urik adding, “and now I think you can leave, seeing as you did what you came here for.”

But just then Chief Arnook walked up behind them, oblivious to the tensions running between the three. Clapping Urik on the back, Arnook looked at Aang and exclaimed jovially, “What?! Going away already Avatar Aang? No, that just won’t do. You must stay for Katara and Urik’s engagement celebration tomorrow night!”

Katara and Urik simultaneously objected, “Oh, he doesn’t need to…” and “No, the Avatar surely needs to be somewhere…” 

Aang looked past them both and calmly up at Chief Arnook.

“Why, yes! Their engagement party -- what a wonderful idea.” Mischief tainting his wide grin, “I simply couldn’t miss that!”

………

A/N: Please leave a review! I’d really love to hear what you think.


	9. Chapter 9

Katara had forgotten how infuriating Aang could be some times.

She and Urik sat at the high table at the celebration of their engagement hosted by Chief Arnook himself. The Palace was always impressive, but the Chief had outdone himself with this feast – the food, the decorations, the music and entertainment – Katara wondered if Yue herself would have had a more impressive gala. 

From where Katara sat at the head table, she could see the whole ballroom. She could see all the guests at the various tables; every Northern Water Tribe nobility of any import was in attendance and decked in their finest apparel. The whole affair was quite impressive.

But what bothered Katara at the moment was the lone Air Nomad in the audience, a splash of yellow amid the various shades of blue. Aang was clad in formal attire: a yellow long-sleeved, high mandarin-collar shirt that hung to his mid-thigh, a brown vest that fit way too well over his shoulders, chest and abs, with a saffron sash tied low around his slim hips, with loose yellow pants that went tight at the knees where his high brown boots started. He looked good. And Katara was annoyed that he looked good. It was infuriatingly distracting. 

Word of Aang’s broken engagement had taken no time at all to become common knowledge, and he had subsequently been assigned seating between two beautiful, and highly flirtatious, water tribe girls. The two seemed to hang on his every word (and on his arms! Oh, how she felt like freezing their wandering hands to the floor!). The way they laughed and mooned over him was irritating. They didn’t even know him! And here they were acting like they had the right to… wait. Katara shook her head. She needed to get a grip! Her one true love was sitting beside her at the high table. Not down with those Northern hussies.

She looked deliberately away from where Aang was seated to the man holding her hand beside her. Urik was dressed in his Water Tribe best, looking impressive and handsome, two blue beads in his long hair, not unlike her father’s, with soft white fur trimming his collar and cuffs, geometric beading adorning his formal blue coat. Previously Urik had been talking with Chief Arnook who was seated on the other side of him, but he was now looking at her, a strange look on his face as he had followed her gaze to where the Air Bender sat. She didn’t mean to blush, but she felt the heat rise to her cheeks at being caught staring at the Avatar. Urik’s brows furrowed slightly, a glare glanced in Aang’s direction. But as he looked at her again he put on a flirtatious grin, “You look absolutely stunning tonight, Katara.” Then he ducked his head to lightly nip at her neck, just below her left ear, lingering a little longer than she felt comfortable with as he moved his lips down closer to her shoulder.

“Urik!” she squeaked, “Everyone can see us!”

“Um-hm,” he mumbled, but sat up again, his eyes focusing on something in the audience as he pulled her closer to him. “I don’t mind a bit if the whole world can see that you are mine! That’s what we are celebrating tonight, right?”

Katara bristled slightly at the possessive terms Urik spoke about her; this was not the first time she had felt awkward with his over-eagerness to “make her his” – yes they were getting married, but she would still be her own person, not belonging to anyone. But she reminded herself that this was likely just Urik’s eagerness to marry her, anther expression of his love for her. And phrases like that were the result of hundreds of years of Water Tribe traditions – a bride-price still being paid in the case of most marriages. Although thought was changing, and the younger generation certainly approached love differently than in the past, male-dominance was still a strong thread throughout a lot of watertribe marriage tradition. But that didn’t mean that Katara was okay with it.

“Careful Urik, you sound like you plan to possess me. Remember, I am marrying you of my own free will and choice. I guess you could say that you will belong to me every bit as much as I will belong to you. Although in reality, neither of us is a possession; we are simply two people pledging to spend our lives together.”

Urik’s jaw clenched as he looked at her, a little flint in his eyes like he wanted to say something more. But instead he took a drink and then simply smiled, squeezing her hand and agreeing, “Yes of course, Darling.”

………..

Aang was now not so sure that coming here was a very good idea.

He now sat between two rather forward watertribe girls, trying to be cordial; one girl was the granddaughter of the Grand Advisor to Chief Arnook and the other the niece of the Admiral of the Northern Water Tribe Navy. So he knew he needed to tread carefully here, although he honestly couldn’t remember either girls’ name for the life of him. At this moment he really missed being engaged. He had almost forgotten how nice it was to be ‘off limits’ at events like this. Aang sighed. Alas, he was now ‘back in the game’ apparently.

Aang looked up at the high table to where Katara sat. She sat conversing with the woman next to her. And Katara looked… beautiful. Her blue dress was long, beautiful beading and embroidery along the hem and tight bodice. The neckline was wide, showing off the silky skin of her collarbones and shoulders. Aang didn’t know much about hair, but whatever she had done to it, some kind of intricate loose braid that fell long over her right shoulder, beads woven throughout it with her signature beaded loopies still caressing her cheeks… Sigh. Yeah. She looked incredible. 

So incredible it hurt. When he had accepted Chief Arnook’s invitation to attend this celebration, he had done it somewhat on a whim; he had been desperate not to leave yet, desperate not to give up on Katara yet. And the fact that accepting irritated that block-head of a fiancé of hers, was an added bonus that Aang couldn’t help but enjoy. But now that he was here, full realization came to him that this was Katara’s engagement party. A celebration of the fact that she was getting married. And not to him. Getting married to that beef-brain who was currently running his lips along her long beautiful neck in a way Aang simply couldn’t stand. His eyes glazed over momentarily as he imagined himself doing the same, before he snapped back to reality and let out a silent groan of torture. Urik straitened sending a pointed look directly at him. Aang wanted to sink Urik in the icy ocean right now, cool him off a bit (or maybe drown him).

Aang needed a distraction. He looked around the table noticing a child seated across from him and over two spaces. The little girl looked bored and fidgety – just like Aang felt. As Chief Arnook stood to give a speech, Aang caught the eye of the girl giving her a crooked smile and winking. He then discretely bent the water in her cup, making it jump. The girl startled and laughed before she clapped her hand over her mouth. Moving his hands under the table, Aang bent her stone bowl sliding it near her cup. Then he made the water jump again, this time jumping into the stone bowl. The wide grin and sparkling blue eyes the girl flashed him were reward enough for him to jump the water back into her cup and then making the wine in the girl’s mother’s cup jump too, putting on an exaggeratedly innocent face as he pretended to listen to the speech. When he caught the girl’s eye again, he saw that she was watching him intently, eager for him to do something more. He then directed a small blast of air to lift one of the girl’s braids, a stifled laugh escaping her as she batted the braid back down, only to have her other braid tossed upward as well. A boy the next table over noticed, and pretty soon Aang was entertaining them both, all while pretending to pay attention to what was being said. 

When Aang looked up at the high table, he noticed Katara quickly look away from him, hiding a small smile. Apparently the children were not the only ones to notice his little diversions…

…………..

Katara sighed in relief when the feasting and speaking was over. She had spent much of the evening so far exchanging meaningless prattle with her soon-to-be mother-in-law seated on her right; an elegant yet prudish woman who thought very highly of her son, and perhaps not highly enough of his choice of a bride. Although she tried to hide it, it was fairly obvious that in her opinion, coming from the South made Katara a bit of a “heathen”. And Katara’s more open views of equality, hierarchy, and tradition did not sit well with the woman. Although even Master Pakku himself often bragged about the way Katara had challenged him to a duel all those years ago, Urik’s mother did not find it amusing. She did not appreciate Katara’s role in changing the social order, and found a woman waterbending for combat (or for anything other than healing for that matter) to be vulgar and unrefined. She silently blamed Katara for her own daughter, Allika’s indulgence in these mannish pursuits. She spent a fair amount of time making veiled suggestions in ways Katara could fill her role as a noble-woman and wife in a more docile and subservient manor. Katara grit her teeth and wondered if mother-in-laws were not perhaps the sole genesis for why airbenders abandoned traditional families thousands of years ago…

With the food cleared, the tables were moved aside to leave room in the middle of the large room for dancing. Drums were the dominant instrument, which made for great beating footwork and feeling the rhythm with the heart. Many of the traditional water tribe dances were done in large circles, or perhaps, in a gathering as large as this one, into several smaller circles. Some of the more modern dances had adopted traditions from the earth and fire nations of men and women dancing together in couples, but would still maintain the water tribe flavor of moving around the circle, feet bouncing to the drums. Occasional slower songs, which allowed for a breather, were played by flutes and tended to have more swaying and less jumping.

Katara had always enjoyed drums, and she had learned to love dancing during her time together with Aang, who had a natural talent for it. He had been eager to learn the traditional dances of her tribe, and so the two of them had danced most of these dances before. To her relief, tonight Aang had divided into another circle set apart from hers and Urik’s. She giggled slightly when she spotted him in a circle filled almost entirely with children, who danced and laughed when Aang would occasionally wind-blast one or two of them from below, popping them into the air with airbending. The children loved it, and Aang seemed to enjoy it just as much as they did. Katara smiled with nostalgia – apparently Aang would always be a child at heart.

But Katara put Aang out of her mind as she laughed and jumped, beating her feet to the rhythms of the drums, holding her dress up to make room for some of the faster foot movements. Urik had taken her hand for the first couple’s dance, she and he circling one another as the dance directed; however, Urik soon leaned into her suggestively, swaying slightly as though he had had a little bit too much to drink. She felt self-conscious of the heated way he put his hands on her, especially with everyone watching. When the song ended she suggested he sit down for a bit.

A few large-circle drum songs later, Katara was surprised to be pulled into a slower flute song by none other than Aang himself. She hadn’t seen him approach her and she was a little flustered to find herself dancing with him – a thousand memories coming back to her. His footsteps always light, she found dancing with Aang effortless and playful, although this dance hummed with an underlying current between them as they circled one another in the well-known steps.

“You look stunning tonight, Katara.”

Katara tired not to blush at the easy way he complimented her, “um… thank you…”

A few moments passed as they continued to sway and turn, until Aang broke the silence again, “Feels a little bit like old times, eh, Katara? Dancing together like this?”

“Yeah, it does… its kind of nice.” She smiled lightly. “I believe we have danced this very dance in this very room together before. Do you remember, at the winter solstice party when I had just turned sixteen?” 

“Of course I remember! You wore your light blue dress with the wave embroidery at the bottom that swung wide every time I turned you around. You looked beautiful that day too…” Aang said cheerfully as he spun her around, her back now up against him. Wistfully Aang continued, “We have a lot of happy memories dancing together… We have a lot of happy memories doing all sorts of things together actually…” He left off, the unsaid end of those happy memories descending around them like a grey cloud. Aang turned her back around, his eyes meeting hers as he smiled sadly. “I’m sorry that those happy times are just memories now…”

“Aang, please…”

“Please what?”

“Lets leave it be…”

“But why? We have endless happy memories that could still be made together!”

“Aang! I’m engaged now. Our chance was lost long ago…” Katara hissed in a whisper.

“But I don’t think it has to be!” Aang glanced to the side self-consciously at his outburst. Then looking at her again and lowering his voice, “I realized that I was engaged to the wrong person...” Aang frowned at the betrothal necklace at her throat, “Are you sure you aren’t as well?”

Katara pushed away from him. How could he ask her that? And here?! At her own engagement party! Guilt stung her as she realized that that same question had been troubling her as well. But the guilt only made her angry, angry at Aang for increasing her doubt. “Aang… I’m done dancing with you. I need to get back to Urik…”

But Aang grabbed her hand quickly as she turned to go, “I’m just telling you its not too late!” he whispered urgently. “Urik is not right for you!”

“Oh yeah? And who is, Aang?!”

He only looked at her, fathomless dark eyes boring a hole through her façade. 

“I need to go…” She stammered as she turned thickly away from those telling eyes. “Good night, Aang.”

……….

The party ended late into the night. Katara had not seen Aang at all after their dance together– he must have left early, which was fine by her. It bothered her that Aang had questioned her decision; but it bothered her more that her own thoughts had traitorously echoed his questioning.

Urik was walking her home, the night lit only by the crescent moon and the stars, a few wispy clouds covering some of them. Urik had his arm draped weightily over her shoulders, stopping her frequently to lean in for heavy kisses coupled with seeking hands. Katara was relieved when her small rented flat came into view.

However, when they got there Urik’s advances only got more aggressive, grabbing her off the ground and forcefully pushing her between his body and the door. 

“Urik! Stop. You’re hurting me!”

“Katara… I want you…”

“Please! We aren’t married yet. And you are drunk!”

Urik let her go and she turned to the door, her fingers shaking slightly as she fumbled with her key, Urik looming close behind her.

As the door opened, Katara turned to tell Urik good night, but was surprised as he pushed her into the room, the door quickly kicked shut behind them. Again Urik was against her, his hands gripping her tightly in the dark room, only a sliver of light coming in through the high window.

“Urik, enough! I’m not comfortable with this!”

“Oh I’ll make you feel more than comfortable! I’m really good at it…”

Katara’s mind raced, her eyes wide open as Urik pushed her onto the bed. “Its high time I showed you how to please me. I’m tired of waiting for you to learn your place!”

Between the two of them Katara was the superior bender, but when it came to physical strength, there was no question that she didn’t have a prayer against Urik’s hulking mass. Katara was afraid. But in a voice stronger than she felt Katara commanded, “Urik! You’re drunk! Get off of me.”

“I could marry us tonight, Katara! Then I wouldn’t have to keep begging you to love me…” 

“Wha… what do you mean?!”

“I see how you look at other men… like that cursed Avatar…”

Katara winced as she felt Urik’s weight shift upon her, his strong hands gripping her arms tightly. Katara let out a gasp of pain, “Urik! Please! It hurts!”

“No… it will feel good… I’ll show you… I’ve had lots of practice…”

Katara’s mind raced. What was he saying? Urik was handsome and charming, and always had been. When the two had been reunited here in the North their relationship had progressed very quickly. He had always pushed her in their physical relationship, sometimes moving into arenas she felt uncomfortable with. But she had always chalked it up to him being a man, a man who was impatient and in love with her. But she hadn’t stopped to think that perhaps he had gained “practical experience” in the four years since they had known each other in the South Pole… 

Katara’s voice came out strong as she commanded him, “Urik! Get. Off. Of. Me!” And freeing one arm she pulled the water from the jug on her nightstand toward her, knocking the jug onto the floor with a crash, the water forming an ice-fist around her clenched hand. She was prepared to defend herself. But Urik’s eyes unglazed, as he stared at her ice-fist cocked and ready to strike. And something broke in his eyes, stumbling backward to his feet, shame on his face. 

“I’m… I’m sorry, Katara… like you said, I’m drunk…” he pleaded.

“Get out, Urik.” Katara stood as well, the ice still wrapped around her fist. “We… we’ll talk about this in the morning.”

Urik’s gaze blinked rapidly up to the ceiling, then looking back at her with mournful eyes, his large hands opened in supplication, “please Katara! I’m sorry!”

“Tomorrow, Urik. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

He sent one last desperate glance at her before turning to the door, and quickly letting himself out.

When she heard the door click closed, Katara let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. She walked to the door, fastening the lock. Then turning to lean her back on the door, she slid to the floor, stunned and shaking. Fear still clenching in her stomach.

Oh Tui and La! What had just happened?

…………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and I'll post the next chapter =)


	10. Chapter 10

Katara shivered as she left her rented room the next morning. Well, you could almost call it morning. It was closer to mid-day by now, but Katara had been unable to fall asleep until almost morning, so she had slept late, trying to erase the alarming memories of the night before. Now she was seeking a place to think, and nothing calmed her tense body and mind better than waterbending. She was heading to the teaching arena; there were no classes today, so the area ought to be quiet and private.

Katara chose a spot in the sunshine near a fountain as she pulled a long stream of water out of the pool. She began to practice some of her basic katas, her body moving easily through the memorized movements leaving her mind free to sort through the troubling events of the night before.

Urik’s behavior had been nothing short of appalling; however, she did not know how much was the alcohol – how much had he been truly accountable for? Urik had never been violent with her before, although admittedly this was not the first time he had been more physically forward than she was comfortable with. Katara had frequently put on the brakes to keep Urik from jumping the gun before their wedding day. But he had stopped. And one day they would be married, so perhaps that particular problem would by then be moot? 

And Urik had pleaded for her forgiveness. Part of her, the confident, strong woman part of her, felt that she deserved better than this and she should drop him like a wet seal-dog; but another part, the compassionate and persevering part of her, wanted to forgive him, at the very least give him a second chance. Everyone makes mistakes, don’t they? Could she really make any relationship work if she cut it off abruptly at the first bump in the road?... But could she really believe that this would be an isolated experience? Or was this just the first sign of real trouble? But should she jump to that conclusion? Shouldn’t everyone be offered the chance of redemption? Her head began to ache dully as she vacillated back and forth.

As Katara moved her arms above her head guiding the water with her, her upper arms throbbed, a reminder of the vice-grip of Urik’s strong hands. Despite the sunshine, Katara shivered again, remembering the fear she had felt of him. And what of the things he had said? Of his allusion to sex with other women? Was that true? Or was it the result of an addled drunken brain? Her stomach clenched as she tried to digest the possibilities, desperate to offer him the benefit of the doubt; however, she was not naïve enough to dismiss his words entirely.

And what of his accusations to her? Had Urik had a right to be jealous? Had her actions toward Aang been inappropriate? Katara’s feelings toward Aang right now were unbelievably complicated, but had she done anything to elicit Urik’s mistrust? With some shame, Katara had to admit that her preoccupation with Aang the night before had not left her guiltless. Her actions were above-board, but Urik was perceptive and he had not missed that Aang had distracted her, and it left her feeling guilty. Anger flared again as she cursed Aang for intruding in her life again! But the anger was followed quickly by compassion and guilt. Here she was considering forgiving Urik, when all those years ago had she ever offered Aang a second chance? Had she even allowed him the chance to explain? Who deserved a second chance here? Anyone? Or should she run from them both? What a mess this had become! 

Katara lunged into the next kata, her arms moving together across her chest, when she felt a shift in the water. The stream she had been guiding subtly shifting allegiance as another presence began to move along with her. Katara looked behind her to see Aang mirroring her movements, joining her in the kata.

Katara should have felt annoyance, or anger, but her gut reaction at seeing Aang there was relief; like safety had come to hold her and make it all better. She breathed out a long breath, continuing to move through the set, not wanting to deal with anything more than the movement at the moment.

The two of them moved in perfect sync, a familiar comfort filling the space between them. They both moved with remarkable similarity; Katara had been Aang’s waterbending teacher after all, and they had spent countless hours bending and honing their water skills together. This was easy. A comfortable place.

As the kata turned their bodies around, Katara now at Aang’s back, she noticed that he wore just a light tunic and pants. Aang was never cold – Katara wasn’t sure if that was due to his firebending, or perhaps he could control the air around him to suit his needs, but whatever the reason, even as a kid Aang never seemed to be bothered by cold. So Aang seemed unconcerned that his clothing was light for the chill pole air. 

He moved the water elegantly, a gentleness and grace accompanying his moves. Something in her softened as she watched the blue line on the back of his head, his strong back guiding his arms, his whole body moving fluidly through the lunge. 

When the kata turned around again, Katara saw that Aang was smiling. “You always have been the most elegant waterbender I’ve ever seen, you know,” he complimented her easily. “You move with the water like it’s a part of you. Just beautiful.”

Katara warmed, recognizing again the easy way in which Aang built her up. “You’re not too shabby yourself, Aang.”

“You taught me everything I know.”

A few more moments passed as they continued to bend the water, passing it lightly between them, before Aang spoke again.

“I came here to find you, Katara. To apologize for last night. What I said was unfair… at least, it wasn’t the right place for it. I’m sorry if I ruined anything about your special night… It wasn’t the right time. And I’m sorry.”

Katara stopped the motion. Given what had happened with Urik last night, she felt a pang at his apologies. Had Aang been right? She shook her head; she hadn’t even spoken with Urik since then. She needed to give him a chance to explain, a chance for the two of them to work this through before she jumped to any conclusions. And Aang had been a catalyst for their conflict in the first place. Katara rubbed her forehead as she tried to sort out her feelings. Having Aang here was just too complicated and confusing; she couldn’t work on two broken relationships at once. Suddenly, she wanted Aang to leave. 

“Katara…?”

Katara spoke, her back still to him, “I appreciate your apology, Aang. And now… you should go.”

“Go? Like, leave this arena?”

“Go. Like, leave the North Pole. You’ve created a mess for me you know.”

Aang looked at her back confused, “What mess?”

Katara didn’t answer.

Aang’s shoulders bristled. “Katara, I came here to try to fix what was broken between us. I can’t leave until I know you’ve forgiven me! I’ve never been more sorry for anything in my life than I am for that day.” But then muttering under his breath, “but of course you would know that, if you’d gotten any of my letters.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she turned to face him. “Aang… sometimes ‘just saying sorry’ doesn’t just fix things.”

“But I mean it Katara,” earnest sincerity in his eyes, “I never, ever, meant to hurt you.” 

“But you did. And you did mean to hurt Urik.”

A long guilty pause, “yeah… I did.” 

Then a flash of disgust crossed his face, “because when I saw the two of you…” His grey eyes suddenly locked on hers, accusation silently twisting like a knife in her gut. Katara was stunned by the fervor in his pained look, even after all this time. Shame like hot dirty breath on the back of her neck, made her shiver. She knew now why she had never wanted to see him again. She hadn’t wanted to have to face her own guilt.

“I know. I know what that must have looked like…”

“Looked like! What else could it have been except what it looked like, Katara?! You were kissing him!” Sarcastically adding, “I know. I was there.”

“Oh please, Aang! Don’t act so innocent. What we had was broken long before that day.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me you cheated on me sooner then?!”

“No!”

“Well then, what?!”

“You were never there, Aang! Months would pass with no word from you. That last time I hadn’t seen you in half a year -- six whole months! And all the while I heard things about you… about you with other girls… what was I supposed to think?”

“You were supposed to trust me, Katara! Trust that I loved you. You think I wanted to be gone? You think I didn’t miss you every minute I was away?! I thought about you all the time, Katara. I trusted you…” A biting tone leaking into his voice, “But seeing as trust wasn’t your strong suit…”

Katara blustered in offense, “What do you want from me, Aang? Did you come here just to pick a fight? You say you came here to apologize for what you said, to admit that you were wrong…” 

“I didn’t say I was wrong.” Aang countered flatly. “I said I was sorry for saying it last night during your party. But I stand by what I said: Urik is not right for you.”

Katara’s mind flashed involuntarily back to her room last night, Urik’s body heavy on top of hers, his drunken breath threatening, the fear she felt as she stared wide-eyed at the dark ceiling, not knowing if she could stop him. Closing her eyes tight against the memory, she crossed both arms around her body, hugging herself protectively, tears springing to her eyes. She still had so much to sort out!

Katara’s eyes glistened, her words coming out in a whisper, “Aang… just… I can’t deal with this right now.” 

Aang’s voice softened, lowering as he approached her, “Katara… “ Aang swallowed thickly, “I just… I fear that my life’s great regret, the thing that I will wish to change for 10 thousand lifetimes,” his voice catching on the next words, “is not fighting for you. That Avatar Aang, my life, will always long for this life to be spent with you.”

“And what do you want me to do?! Just leave Urik and fly off with you?!”

“Yes!”

“Wha..? No! I couldn’t...” 

Katara began to turn away from him... but with the speed of an air bender, Aang pulled her back towards him, and kissed her, one hand around her lower back, the other cupping the back of her head, his fingers sliding into her hair.

And suddenly something inside her broke -- screaming that this was exactly what she wanted. With urgency she grabbed his head in her two desperate hands and kissed him back with all the pent up longing of her broken heart and lost young love. In response, Aang gripped her tighter, like he was trying to bring her as close to him as was physically possible. This felt so right. Like she had been longing for this everyday since she had seen Aang fly away from the South Pole.

Until her brain caught up with her, and guilt slid icily into her heart. What was wrong with her? Hadn’t she learned her lesson all those years ago on the icy planes of the South Pole?! Couldn’t she commit to one man? 

Placing both her hands on Aang’s chest, she pushed him away abruptly. “Aang!... I can’t...” in a strangled sob crying out, “I can’t do this!”

Katara covered her mouth with her hand as she turned away from him and began to stalk away. But Aang grabbed her arm again, pulling her back towards him. But as he did so, a water-whip from behind slashed him across the back of his head and neck, a red gash opening the skin.

“Get your filthy hands off of her!”

Aang hissed in pain as he brought down red-stained fingers from the back of his head, a trickle of blood sliding down inside his collar. He turned to find Urik standing with the water-whip in his hand and rage on his face. Apparently he had come searching for Katara as well.

Aang’s brows drew together in anger. “Or what?” Aang challenged, facing him, teeth bared and drawing a whip of his own from the ice below. 

Urik didn’t answer, but struck viciously with his whip again while simultaneously kicking a jagged chunk of ice at the Airbender. Aang dodged the ice, spinning to a crouch as he reached outward towards Urik, bending to pull the whip from his hand. As the water obeyed Aang instead of himself, Urik growled and violently moved his arms, sending ice spikes slicing through the air towards Aang. Aang jumped in a high arch, airbending to flip over Urik’s head, Urik sending ice spikes after him as he traveled through the air. Just as Aang was about to land, Urik turned the ice below Aang into a pool of water, which Aang narrowly missed by creating an air bubble over the water, redirecting his feet to solid ice. Aang had to admit that Urik’s bending had improved since the last time they fought. But, he thought smugly, he was still no match for him. Aang almost casually hit Urik from the side with a blast of air, throwing him off balance and into the snow on his hands, although Urik was back up and fighting again almost instantly. 

Katara watched in horror as the two men fought each other. She had called for them to stop, but neither had paid her any heed. Both men seemed almost keen to have this out. And Katara stood stunned, not knowing what to do but watch, frozen. Although only slightly shorter than Urik, Aang looked small in comparison to the muscular Water Tribesman. Urik was solid and tough. Aang was lithe and agile. Katara knew both of their bending well, and she knew that although Urik was a very talented waterbender and Aang was less likely to attack offensively, ultimately this fight would only ever go one way: Urik would continue to fight until Aang would have to put an end to it, and the Avatar would win. Thus far Aang had only bothered with bending water and air, but he had two more elements he could call on, not to mention the furry of the Avatar State (which she was sure he wouldn’t need). Katara didn’t want things to escalate further. She had to stop them!

“Urik, please! Stop this!” But the man continued to attack as though he had not heard her.

Aang had just batted away another water punch from Urik, when he called up a pillar of air to carry him up higher to avoid Urik’s offenses, wind being thrown outward in all directions. He didn’t really want to hurt Urik. But he did want to show him that he wouldn’t be pushed around.

Katara ran up behind Aang, melting the ice directly below Aang’s air pillar and sending a river of water up towards him, Aang’s own spiraling air helping to pull the water upward. Once the water reached his feet, Katara froze it, pulling Aang down with a jerk to ground level. 

“Aang! Stop, please!” she plead. Aang stopped fighting and turned his upper body toward her, his feet up to his knees still frozen to the ground, a look of surprised betrayal on his face. “Katara?” But as he did so, Urik saw his opportunity and hurled a tremendous block of ice at the immobilized and distracted Avatar, hitting him bluntly in the shoulder and the side of his turned head with a sickening thud. With a groan Aang’s body crumpled unconscious to the ground, his form lumped awkwardly to the side while his feet remained frozen in the snow. Blood drained onto the snow, red on white. The red growing fast.

Katara stood aghast, a silent scream on her lips. 

What have I done?!

………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review please! Its a small thing, but its super encouraging for me =)


	11. Chapter 11

The room in the healing hut was small and warm. Aang lay on his back on a low stretched-hide cot, his head turned slightly to the side. His torn and blood soaked shirt had been removed, his right shoulder wrapped several times in a long off-white bandage. The lines of the blue tattoos running along his arms and on his forehead shone luminescent in the firelight. He didn’t move beyond the gentle rhythm of his breath moving in and out. Katara knelt on the furs next to his cot, a large pot of water nearby, although at the moment, it sat idle at her side.

The events of earlier that day felt like a blur: Aang turning when she called his name, Urik’s enormous jagged ice block bashing into his head, the blood… all that blood. She had looked up from Aang’s crumpled body to see Urik running toward them. She had summoned an ice-wall up to divide him from she and Aang; she didn’t know if he was running to help or to hinder, but she couldn’t waste any time to find out. 

Since Katara had frozen his feet to the floor before he fell, Aang’s body had lain in a horribly awkward position. She quickly liquidized the ice-boots holding his legs, and crouched next to his un-moving body to assess the damage. Part of his scalp had been ripped and folded off by the mass of ice, his right ear nearly torn off with it. It was hard to get a clear image of the extent of the damage due to all the blood from his head wound – everything was covered in red.

Katara strangled a sob. Oh Spirits, please let him be alright…

The shoulder of Aang’s shirt had been ripped off, an ugly looking blunt-force contusion already discoloring the area. Katara couldn’t tell, but she suspected he had a broken collarbone as well. She had set to work trying to heal him, calling water from all around her, desperate to fix this. Unbidden, images of Aang falling from the sky, his charred body cradled in her arms after Azula’s lighting strike, kept flashing into her mind. Panic gripped her, just like it had then. 

No, Katara. Calm down. You can do this … you have to do this for Aang!

Cautiously, Katara had put her water-wrapped hands on both sides of Aang’s head, carefully trying to fold the skin back into place on his skull, hands glowing while she put his ear back into place, all the while trying to detach herself from the details of what she was doing. If she thought too much about this, about who she was healing and of her own guilt in why he was in this position, she knew she might throw-up. 

Focus. Just focus on the mechanics. 

Katara took a deep breath in through her nose, closing her eyes as she concentrated on pushing her chi outward, seeking through the water to find the injured places, stop the bleeding. Through emitting her own energy into his, she sought to hasten the natural healing of Aang’s body. Time passed, but she had no grasp on how long – all her focus was solely on healing this man she had once loved.

Vaguely she heard voices, panicked and running towards them. Perhaps Urik had gone for help? She felt the ice wall she had created dissipate. But she didn’t break her concentration; all her energy was still trained only on Aang. 

The others tried to gently pull her back, away from the battered Avatar. But she wouldn’t be moved. Eyes still closed, she made the water glow again, working desperately to bring him back to her. She felt his skin healing, felt the hemorrhaging slow. She opened her eyes, watching desperately for his eyes to open, for his dark lashes to part revealing his beautiful grey eyes. But nothing.

As men ran up with a stretcher, Katara was pulled back momentarily for the Avatar to be transferred carefully onto it, fur blankets piled on top of him; but immediately afterwards she was back by his side while he was run to the healing huts. There was a flurry of movement in the hut – fires lit to warm the room, Aang’s shirt cut off to expose the extent of his wounds, warm furs placed on Aang’s legs, a Shaman in the corner chanting for Tui and La to bless their efforts – but Katara was hardly aware of any of it. Time for her seemed to hold still while she breathed, eyes closed again, sending her healing energy continuously into Aang’s.

Healing for her always reminded her of Aang. She had learned for the first time that she could heal because Aang had burned her. She had run from him and submerged her hands in the river, a glow emitting as the burns disappeared. He had been devastated by what he had done. But part of her was grateful. Because hurting her had opened this dormant ability she didn’t know she had; she was stronger in the end. She thought of the ways she and Aang had hurt each other more recently. Could this hurt ultimately make them stronger too?

And then there was that day… the day that still makes her breath catch when she thinks of it. When Aang fell from the sky, dead, into her arms. But she had brought him back, snatched his soul from being reborn into his next life with the Spirit water from the Northern Oasis. So in a way, Aang burning her, had saved his own life… We cannot see the end from the beginning. How can we know what events are ultimately good or bad for us? Perhaps all events can lead to good for those who wait long enough to see the miracles.

And Katara was waiting for a miracle now. Waiting for those grey eyes to open. Something like a sob broke in her heart as she watched this boy she had once loved so openly.

It had been hours since Aang was brought to the healing hut. It had been hours since his outward wounds had all been healed. After triaging the more acute injuries of his head and shoulder, it had been discovered that one of Aang’s knees had been displaced from the weight of his body falling while the ice-boots Katara had trapped him in held his feet immovable. But now his knee was realigned and healed as well. But he still hadn’t woken. Yagoda, the most skilled healer in all of the Water Tribes, told her it was due to his blood loss. As she and the others left Katara and Aang alone, she had assured Katara that the wounds were healed, but it would take time for his body to replace the copious amounts of blood he had lost. All they could do was wait.

And so Katara found herself kneeling by his side now. Still waiting.

Her eyes gently searched the face of this boy who had once been her best friend, her reason for hope, and her first love. Since literally the day he fell into her life, he had opened up the world to her. Before Aang, her world had been no larger than her tiny village, the icy coast on one side and endless snow in all other directions. But he had taken her to see the world! He had taught her to play, to let go of fear, to let go of anger and hate, to save the world – with Aang she literally soared. 

Sitting by his side like this, waiting for him to wake up brought back a flood of memories of waiting for him to wake up after Ba Sing Se. It had been during those weeks that Katara’s feelings for Aang had really begun to change, from a friend, maybe even a crush, to something much deeper. It was during those hours spent healing Aang that she had fallen in love with him.

And over the course of the last couple of hours while she now waited for him to wake, Katara realized that she still loved him. She had never really stopped loving him, although she had certainly given a valiant effort trying to. Why? What were her reasons for breaking things off with Aang in the first place? As she thought back, she realized for the first time that all of her reasons for breaking off her relationship with Aang had been based in fear; fear of him leaving her for someone else, fear of losing her home and culture, fear of what the future would require of the two of them. 

But when she thought of the boy she had loved, and the man he was now, there was so much to love. He was strong, and compassionate, and kind-hearted. He had overcome perhaps more loss than anyone she knew, and yet chose to face the future with optimism and humor. He was also childish and exasperating and could be so adorably tongue-tied around her. With a wry smile she thought of him dancing with the children at her engagement party, she thought of effortlessly waterbending with him, of all the easy and natural ways that he built her up. She thought about the way he made her feel: safe and adored and beautiful. 

And also hot and fluttery. 

Katara’s eyes scanned the lines and planes of his face and body in the fire-light. He was beautiful. Her mind wandered for not the first time to the way he had kissed her today; his strong hands holding her to him, his hot mouth taking her breath away. Katara’s fingers drifted up to her mouth, gently touching her lips where his had so passionately pressed against hers. She felt a flip in her stomach and heat come to her cheeks. She wanted more of that. Katara looked sheepishly away from Aang’s face, realizing that she had been staring at his mouth. She wanted him to kiss her again. 

In an effort to get her mind back on track, Katara pulled some water from the large jug at her side. Her hands glowing she turned Aang’s face a little more towards her as she worked once again on healing his head. When she was done, her eyes inspected the areas on his head where his skin had been pieced back together; only a thin pink line like puzzle pieces showed where his injuries had been. It would scar, but the scaring would likely be hardly noticeable in time.

She wondered about the two of them. Could they piece back together the broken places between them? Would those divides one day be hardly noticeable, hardly remembered? She didn’t know. But she hoped so. 

She stood to inspect the very back of his head; the water-whip laceration Urik had given Aang initially was now completely gone, leaving the sky blue tattoo once again whole.

Urik. Sinking back onto her knees with a sigh she looked at the dancing flames in the fire; technically was still engaged to him. But her feelings toward him now had shifted so completely. She had loved him. But it would seem that the Urik she had loved was a façade. He had hidden things from her, his past actions and his true nature. 

Earlier today he had tried to see her, to see Aang, but she had flatly banished him from the hut before he had even crossed the threshold. His eyes had been full of apology and regret as he caught sight of the bruised and blood-covered Avatar on the low cot. She would have to deal with him soon.

And she would have to deal with Aang soon too. But how would he feel about her when he awoke? After all, it had been her sudden involvement that had led to him taking an ice-block to the head. She had been the sole reason Urik had gotten past Aang’s nearly perfected ‘leaf-in-the-wind’ defenses. She remembered with a pang the look of betrayal in his eyes when he had looked toward her. Would he understand? That she had just wanted to stop them from fighting? So she had targeted the stronger of the two. But she wondered with some complexity if that had been the whole reason she had gone after Aang instead of Urik. She didn’t have a full answer for that.

Katara sighed and looked back toward Aang. She was startled to see his eyes open, and looking at her intently, his brows slightly furrowed. 

“Oh! Aang! You’re awake!”

A pause as he looked around briefly. “Yeah… I’m awake.” A careful look at her from the corner of his eye, “Katara. What happened?”

She was not prepared for how guilty she felt as she replied, “well, um… you and Urik were fighting… and Urik hit you in the head with a block of ice…”

“Right after you froze me to the ground.” He finished for her bluntly.

Katara swallowed, not knowing how to respond.

Aang sighed and tried to bring his right arm up to his head, but winced, his left hand moving to cradle his right shoulder as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. 

“You, um, you have a broken collarbone. Your shoulder was in pretty bad shape, but you’ve been healed now… so the worst of it is over. There will still be some soreness and the bone will have to finish healing on its own. But I’ve wrapped it, so it shouldn’t be too intrusive.” She was talking too fast. She was nervous.

Again Aang looked at her, his eye penetrating. But he didn’t say anything.

He tried to sit up, Katara reaching around his back to help him up, but he shrugged her off. A grimace on his face he sat up, bringing his left hand to his head. “I feel like I’ve been beaten with … well, I guess a big block of ice. My head is killing me.” He squeezed his eyes closed.

Katara reached out her hands, wanting to help him, to touch him. Calling some water to her hands she offered, “Let me see if I can help.”

“No.” Aang’s glare sent a shiver through her. “I’m fine.”

Pushing aside the heavy furs, Aang swung his legs over the edge of the cot and looked around for his boots.

Katara sat up abruptly. “No Aang, you should rest. The other healers and I have spent hours healing you today.”

Aang replied in a professional tone, “Thank you for all of your efforts to heal me. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” Then while bending to look for his boots under the cot he muttered in a low voice she could just barely hear, “It’s nice you try to fix some things when you break them.”

Katara sat back on her heels as though the wind had been knocked out of her. Aang’s words stung, the double meaning not lost on her: she had been the reason he got hurt today, AND she had never even attempted to fix the break between them four years ago. She needed to explain, she needed to make him understand!

But he was already pulling on his boots, pumping his left knee a couple times, clearly feeling some stiffness there.

“Aang!” She pled, “I… I never meant for this to happen! I was just…” but she was cut off when a young teenaged boy, a runner from the palace, rushed into the hut.

“Avatar Aang, Sir! There’s been an urgent message sent from Omashu. The instructions were to find you immediately.” The boy bowed slightly holding out a scroll with both hands, the seal of Omashu on the wax. 

Aang took the scroll respectfully with both hands, returning the bow with an incline of his head. “Thank you.”

As the boy left, Aang quickly broke the seal and unrolled the scroll. Katara watched with concern as Aang’s face paled, his eyes scanning the words, until he dropped his hands into his lap, blinking quickly, his eyes filling with tears.

“Aang, what is it?” Katara’s voice full of concern.

Aang sat in a daze for a moment. Then suddenly swung one of the furs around his bare shoulders with the slightest wrinkle of his nose at the dead animal skin. “Where’s Appa? I’ve gotta go!” 

But as he stood, he wobbled slightly. Katara shot to her feet, bracing him with one hand around his back, the other on his bare chest. They both paused at the contact, breath held. Until Aang stepped away, pulling the fur tighter around him.

“I guess you’re getting what you wanted, Katara. I’m leaving the North Pole.”

“Aang! I don’t want that… not anymore! What’s happened?”

Aang turned around half-way through the door to look at her with pain clearly etched in his expression. “It’s Bumi… he’s… he’s dead,” Aang’s voice cracked on the last word before he turned and left.

………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll add the next chapter when I get a couple reviews. Thanks!


	12. Chapter 12

After a stunned moment while she registered the dismal news about King Bumi, Katara put on her heavy parka and raced from the healing hut, desperate to catch up with Aang before he left the North Pole.

But as she ran from the healing hut, Urik spoke up from behind her, his impressive form leaning against the outside of the small building. He surely had seen Aang leave, but he obviously wasn’t waiting here for Aang. He had been waiting for Katara.

“Katara! Wait!”

“Urik!” Katara spun around surprised. “Did you see which way Aang went?”

Urik’s eyes narrowed as he pushed off the wall and walked toward her. “I’ve been waiting hours for you, Katara.” Then his expression softened with concern. “Are you… are you okay?”

Katara looked around, pretty sure that Aang had gone up to the Palace region; the housing Chief Arnook had provided for him was in the upper quadrant, not far from the Palace itself. Aang likely went that way if for nothing else but to grab his things and find Appa who was stabled nearby. But there were two ways to get there from here; which one had he taken?

“I’m fine, Urik,” Katara responded distractedly, she simply didn’t have time to waste! “But I need to find Aang! I don’t have any time to loose!”

Urik’s blue eyes looked cautious, and a little sad, “Why? Why do you need to find him?”

“Because something’s happened! He needs me…”

“I saw him walk out of here – he looked fine. I think he’s healed now, Katara. He doesn’t need you anymore.”

Katara looked at Urik for real for the first time since leaving the hut. She could see pain and uncertainty on his face, and her heart softened towards him. She and he had so much they needed to discuss; so much that needed to be determined for the future. She was desperate to find Aang before he left… but she needed to talk with Urik, and she needed to do it now.

“Urik… its just… well, you’re right, he is healed.”

“And thank the Spirits for it!” Urik’s posture seemed to wilt in relief. “I saw him walk out of here, so I assumed just as much. But it’s such a relief to hear you say it. Thank you for your help earlier, in taking him down. But frankly I don’t think we wanted to be the ones who killed the ‘most beloved Avatar in history’, the ‘Savior of the Hundred/ ljnml.khgp/u HJkvJ m Years War’!” And then under his breath, but still loud enough for Katara to hear, “Even if he is a poaching two-faced cheater…”

Katara’s fists tightened at the insult, and the audacious assumption that she had intentionally helped Urik hurt Aang. The ice under her feet hardened and cracked slightly. She consciously took a long calming breath, letting it out slowly.

Urik looked at her, “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No…” she let the word drift off slowly, “Aang didn’t hurt me.” She let out a quick breath in a sigh, “But we need to talk about someone who did. Urik, how much do you remember about what happened last night after our engagement party? When you brought me home?”

Urik’s expression instantly turned wary, before he masked it with a face of innocence. “What do you mean? Did something happen?”

“Yes, Urik, something did happen. You tried to force yourself on me.”

“Maybe I got confused…“ he said with a cheeky grin, “thought it was our wedding celebration instead of just our engagement party…” 

Katara was not amused. “Urik, you hurt me! And you frightened me.”

Urik replied in a dismissive tone, “Katara, I was drunk. Too much celebrating! I’m sure whatever happened was just a mistake, and it won’t ever happen again.”

But Katara wasn’t satisfied with that. She didn’t like how lightly he was treating this. It was true that she was able to stop him last night, but would she always be? And what about when she was not the only one to consider? When children were brought into their household, would she be guaranteed that Urik would always hold his alcohol non-violently? “But I don’t see it that way, Urik. How am I supposed to believe something like that won’t happen again?”

“Well, let’s just move up the wedding. Then all of this will be a useless conversation anyway.”

“How can you say that?! Just because we can sleep together after we are married, doesn’t mean I’m not entitled to be treated with respect.”

“Katara,” Urik cooed her name, gently rubbing his hands up and down both her arms, trying to turn her gaze to his. “Of course I respect you! Would I want to marry you if I didn’t? But there’s no need to turn a tiny ice-flow into a glacier! I was drunk.”

“Drunk. And loose-tongued. What was that you said about other women, Urik? What am I supposed to believe about that?”

Urik froze momentarily. Then asked cautiously, “What did I say about other women?”

“Well… you alluded to having… practice. Like you’ve slept around.”

“Lies. All of it. Not even a concern.”

“Or maybe it’s the truth, and a little alcohol only loosens your hold on the secrets you’ve been withholding from me!”

Urik eyes turned to coals; his dead stare sending a surge of fright though her momentarily. “I told you it was lies,” He spat out coldly, “and even if it wasn’t, who cares? Expectations have never been the same for a man as they are for women.”

Katara’s nose wrinkled in disgust, “Don’t be a pig, Urik!”

“Katara,” he said her name with exasperation, “Why are you making such a big deal out of this?!”

“Why are you not?!”

“Listen, Katara, I’m sorry I was too rough with you. And I’m sorry that you think I said something about something that never happened. But a man has urges. Needs. And his woman should be there to fulfill those needs. I know you want to wait until we are married, and I’m trying to be patient with that (believe me, my patience has been nothing short of heroic!), but I just don’t see the point. The sooner you’re mine, the sooner you can start acting like a proper wife!”

Ice solidified in Katara’s ocean blue eyes. “And what exactly do you mean by that?” She spat.

“Come on, Katara. Everyone knows you are beautiful, and talented, and the daughter of the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. All of those are big pluses to marrying you. But let’s be honest, you have a few… unrefined behaviors, that after we’re married I can work on curbing.”

“Oh really?... Unrefined behaviors? Do enlighten me!”

“Don’t get all huffy! Sheesh!” Urik patronized, “Lets just say I didn’t notice much when we were living in the South, but being here, in the North, where we are a bit more cultured… my mother first pointed it out to me, and being here I guess I can see more clearly… sometimes your behavior is embarrassing. A bad reflection on me.”

Urik straitened up to his full height, “You’re not a man, Katara. And I don’t like how you act like one; talking out of turn, stating your opinions in men’s business, waterbending so aggressively. Don’t get me wrong, your feistiness is a huge turn-on; part of why I know you’ll be just what I want when you finally spread your legs for me.” Katara flinched at his crass reference. “But to behave as you do…” His eyes shifted to the side, like he was ashamed by her. “I’m not like a freaking… Air Nomad, who says ‘anything and everything goes’! In our tribes we have standards, expectations, Katara. What is and isn’t appropriate. And not just here in the North; I know things are similar in the South. I think Chief Hakoda will be grateful to have a man for his daughter who finally teaches her some respect and propriety.”

Katara had heard enough. Pulling water to her fists, she cocked one fist up by her ear. “How. Dare. You?! Why have you never mentioned any of this before? If I’ve been falling so short of your “standards” all along?!”

“Katara…” Urik put his hands up defensively, trying to coax her arms down, “come on, put down the water. I mean, this is exactly what I mean. What kind of woman threatens a man like that?... I love you! I really do! And I want to marry you more than you can imagine! And none of this is more than we can’t work on after we’re married.”

Katara kept her fist cocked. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m sorry I’m such a “fixer-upper” for you. But don’t worry, “she brought her fists down, dropping the water surrounding them. Then reached up behind her neck to unclasp Urik’s betrothal necklace. “Because I won’t be your ‘problem’ after all. Because I won’t be marrying you, Urik.” Katara shoved the necklace back into Urik’s large hand.

For a moment, Urik just looked at it. Then he looked up at her, almost disbelieving, “Come on, Katara! Don’t be like that…” then smooth and cajoling, “Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up just now.”

When Katara just crossed her arms, making absolutely no move to rescind her declaration, Urik’s brows furrowed, “alright Katara, what do you want from me? ‘You’re right, I’m wrong’ – is that enough?” 

When Katara’s jaw remained clenched and her gaze icy, Urik’s eyes flashed angrily. Acid slipped into his voice when he stepped toward her, towering over her menacingly, “You will not break off this engagement! Not after I’ve waited for you all of these years! Katara, I’m in love with you! And I deserve to have you!”

Urik made to grab her, as though he would push her back toward the healing hut, but Katara was much too fast for him. She may have been taken off guard last night, but she was an experienced warrior, and she would not be caught in the same snare twice. In a flash Katara took a large step backward, turning a small circle back toward him while grabbing his arm at the wrist and turned it quickly and painfully up behind his own back, calling up a rush of water to freeze his twisted arm in a pillar of ice behind him. Then continuing her circular walk around him, she pulled a long, thick ice spike like a spear into her hands, pointing it under Urik’s chin. 

“Don’t. Don’t even think about laying your dirty paws on me ever again!” she snarled.

Then, not taking her eyes from him, she stepped back and dropped the ice spike to the ground, shattering it near his feet. 

“And how’s that for unrefined? This unrefined woman, just took you down like a child.”

With that Katara turned and rushed off toward the Palace grounds. 

…………..

The chill air raced past them, ruffling Appa’s fur as Aang and Appa flew urgently away from the North Pole. The sun was low on the horizon, and was likely to stay there for several hours yet despite the lateness of the hour. Due to the long days of the North Arctic summers, the sun would only dip past the horizon, submerging the North Pole into darkness for a few hours each night. The days had already begun to shorten with Autumn approaching quickly, but Aang was grateful for the extended light. He was anxious to get away, and to get to Omashu. Even though he and Appa could likely only fly for a few hours tonight before they would need to stop to sleep, Aang thought bitterly that at least they wouldn’t need to spend another minute in the North Pole.

Aang was angry. And hurt. Mostly hurt, if he was honest with himself. His shoulder was sore, and his head still ached dully, but that was not the hurt that bothered him most. Aang felt betrayed. 

It was true that he had fought Urik, but he had not started the conflict (although he had to admit to himself that he hadn’t shied away from it either. Urik had lashed out first, but Aang had readily answered in like kind.) 

Aang thought with some self-rebuke, that he would have been better to turn the other cheek, to go with his generally natural inclination to avoid violence. When had he become so willing to fight? He thought with some trepidation that this seemed to be something that only that particular idiot was able to bring out in him. Aang was generally so gentle, so loathe to enter into a conflict. Even when Aang had to fight to put down rebellions, he was always reluctant to use force; and when he must, very rarely did he do so in anger or gain any satisfaction in it. But with Urik he seemed ready to fight in an instant, almost welcoming the release. Why was that? 

Oh yeah… Aang thought cynically. It’s because the woman he loved was in love with Urik. 

Aang’s jealousy was quick to override his rational brain. In addition to hurt, now Aang was riddled with shame. What would the Monks think? They would be ashamed of his actions, his lack of control, his violent choices. It was true that Aang never intended to hurt Urik, but he should not have risen to the fight at all. He should have been better than that.

And what had it led to?

Katara had chosen Urik’s side; the two of them had ganged up on him. Katara had chosen Urik. She always chose Urik. And Aang was done with that. He should have learned his lesson all those years ago in the South Pole; but apparently he was a very slow learner. But now the lesson was learned. Katara would always choose Urik, to the point that she had fought with him against Aang. She had healed Aang out of guilt or obligation, but she had made her allegiance very clear. And Aang was done trying to change her mind now.

Aang turned his face southward, away from the North Pole, away from Katara. He would no longer beg Katara to love him. She had made her choice; and now, so had he.

………..

Katara raced up the city towards the upper quadrant, her lungs burning with the icy air she breathed in large pants. She had to get there before he left! 

Katara’s neck felt cold, the chill air kissing along the empty place where Urik’s heavy fetter once hung. She felt free! And she almost laughed as she entered the last stretch.

But then she heard a low bellow from Appa, and she whipped around to see the silhouette of the Sky Bison out against the ocean, already out past the city and flying towards the orange sky to the South. The sky looked like sunset, even though she knew the sun would remain low over the ocean for another hour or two before finally dipping below the horizon line for a few hours.

Katara’s heart dropped. She yelled his name, but she knew that he would never hear it. Tears jumped to her eyes as she realized that she was too late. Aang was gone. He was going to face the death of his oldest friend, and he was doing alone. And she was left behind, wishing more than ever to be with him, to be there for him.

Now that she had finally accepted her feelings for Aang, that she was still wholly and truly in love with him, and now that her ties to Urik were no more, it was as if a floodgate had opened. She loved Aang so much she could hardly breathe; and she needed to fix things – this wedge between them, and the loneliness Aang was facing. Once again she opened her heart to compassion for the boy she had held close as her dearest friend, the person who had changed her life for the better more than any other. And her heart hurt for him. She knew what Bumi meant to him, what he represented. And she ached that she couldn’t be there with Aang now as he confronted the death of his childhood – his last living link to ‘before the iceberg’. 

She whipped around again, heading determinedly for her own lodgings. First thing tomorrow she would purchase passage on the fastest ship she could find.

She was going to Omashu.

…………...


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story is wrapping up soon; perhaps just one more chapter after this one. I hope that you have enjoyed it so far. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so please leave a comment!

After sending notice to the Avatar of King Bumi’s passing, Aang’s arrival to Omashu had been watched for around the clock. Besides King Bumi’s special request that Aang participate in the funeral, the Avatar’s presence at this tenuous time of shifting of powers came as a great relief to those responsible for the city.

Even though it was late into the evening when Aang finally set down with Appa on the large open courtyard of the Palace, he was immediately greeted by Advisor Shi – an old but spry man, undoubtedly with a high level of tolerance and patience to have worked with King Bumi as his assistant for nearly four decades. Aang was well acquainted with the man, and was aware of Bumi’s trust in him. 

Advisor Shi bowed, both hands tucked in his long sleeves, his ridiculous hat flopping forward with a flourish and then backward again exaggeratedly as he stood up. His high, quick voice ringing out, “Ah, Avatar Aang! We have watched for your arrival with much anticipation.”

Aang bowed in return, one hand covering his other hand’s fist. Aang had changed into lighter clothing, one shoulder exposed, accommodating for the heat of the Earth Kingdom’s late summer. “I am grieved for the nature of my presence here, but I am at your service to aid in whatever capacity I am able.” His words were formal and appropriate, but underneath his grief was very personal. This place held so many memories for him, many of them stemming from before this man was even born. Aang had to swallow thickly when he was reminded that this visit to Omashu would not be greeted with Bumi’s familiar ribbing and mad antics.

“Please, follow me. I will take you to your usual room.”

The recently refurbished room number 13, Aang thought to himself of how Bumi would refer to it. There were no rooms numbered 7-12 (although inexplicably there was a 9), but for whatever reason, Bumi had numbered this one 13. Bumi’s definition of ‘recently’ was a bit broader than most people’s as well, given his grasp on time was longer than most ever achieved. It was true that Aang’s room had been remodeled since the end of the Hundred Year War, but just barely, and had therefore not been changed much in the last seven or eight years. But every time Aang visited, Bumi referred to his room the same way: the recently refurbished room number 13. Bumi had ordered Aang’s room to be made near the top of the cone-shaped Palace, with large open windows that let the breeze in at will. This Palace was old enough that this room had been originally used to house Air Nomads of particular merit when they visited the city and the royalty who ruled it. The view of the city from that height would give most people vertigo, but as an Airbender, Aang loved to stand just on the edge of the balcony, often perching right up on the stone railing to feel the wind and the illusion of living in the sky. Aang was grateful for the familiar room, and for the privacy it offered him. He had a lot on his mind, and it was a relief to have a moment to process the swirl of emotions whirling within him.

Katara had once had a room here dedicated to her as well, on this same hall. It had never been frequented as often as Aang’s, but Bumi had been kind enough to reserve the room for her anyway, as a gesture to Aang as much as anything. But it had been years since she had stayed there, and the room had long since been repurposed. But as Aang stood on the balcony, grief clenching in his stomach, he wished that he could just walk down the hall, and into the arms of Katara, the girl that for so many years had acted as his anchor and his lifeline, the solid evidence that he was not alone. He knew he was supposed to be angry with her, and that she was already lost to him, but it didn’t keep the little boy inside of him from hungering for her touch, her reassurance. He longed to wrap his arms around her and lay his head on her torso, letting her soft brown hands tenderly stroke his head in care like she used to. Aang sighed and walked back into the room.

Aang had already been fully aware of the political complications surrounding selecting a successor for King Bumi, and on the walk up to his room, Advisor Shi had briefed him on the developments since the old King’s passing. Bumi had certainly been unconventional, if not a bit crazy, but he wasn’t stupid. He had put a great deal of effort into selecting an appropriate successor, and had been sure to make his wishes known to avoid plunging his city into a power grab at his death. Since Bumi’s own children had not survived him, and he only had one granddaughter – a girl who had been born with a damaged heart, who had not lived past fourteen – so choosing a successor had required looking outside of the royal family. Bumi himself had no particular issues with this, since he himself was not of royal decent; he had been appointed King about two decades after the start of the Hundred Year War, after he had proven himself an extraordinary earthbender and an exceptional strategist in the Omashu Army, his leadership saving the city from Fire Nation occupation on more than one occasion. But some of the other Omashu rulers and high families, had wished for a King of royal heritage. Bumi had threatened on several occasions to appoint his gorilla-goat, Flopsy, as the new king; but Aang, among others, had always managed to persuade him otherwise (although Aang had known all along that Flopsy was a ruse, an outlet for Bumi to comment on the political pawing and fawning surrounding his selection of the new King.) However, Aang also knew that Advisor Shi, for one, was secretly grateful that Flopsy had died about a year ago, lest King Bumi unexpectedly change his somewhat whacky mind and write Flopsy into the will at the last minute.

The man King Bumi had selected as his successor was a man in his late fifties (“young whippersnapper”, as Bumi had refereed to him), named Gu. Gu had served in the Omashu Army, as well as in a counselor position for Bumi for decades now. He was not originally from Omashu, which was a source of contention among many, but he was of solid mind, and good heart, and he had been serving the city for most of his life at this point. Aang liked the man, although he sometimes had to laugh at how he struggled sometimes to sort through Bumi’s sense of humor, not always sure when Bumi had been kidding, or when he was deadly serious (a problem that many admittedly struggled with.) But Aang agreed with Bumi that Gu would make an excellent King of Omashu.

But a flawless transfer of power was never easy, especially in a city that had been ruled by the same monarch for nearly nine decades. In recent years several people had presented themselves as superior options as successors to Gu, one woman named TanXin gaining the most support. Bumi had never considered her, but she had campaigned among the common folk and had gained some following. Advisor Shi had informed Aang of her redoubled efforts with the news of King Bumi’s death, but nothing more than some public rallies in her favor had ensued. Aang’s presence here as a neutral, but powerful player, was welcomed to help the transition go smoothly. Aang hoped to have an audience with TanXin if possible; see if conflicts could be resolved before they grew.

But the last thing Aang wanted to deal with at the moment were politicians grasping for power at the loss of his friend. These were issues for tomorrow. Tonight, he would just allow himself to grieve. To miss the man who, in recent years, had been there for him in a uniquely singular way. Although Aang had been grateful for Zuko, Toph, and Sokka and the friendship and support they offered him, no one had filled quite the same role as Bumi. No one else could tell a joke, the punch line of which referenced a fad of over a hundred years ago that would have them both snorting and choking over their drinks. No one else could talk about people he had loved, his brothers at the temple, or most especially, Monk Gyatso, in anyway more than in the abstract. Although it had usually been in small ways, over the past years Bumi had made special efforts after the war to help Aang reorient himself to this world that had changed so much while he had been gone, helping him to understand why and how things had changed. Bumi understood Aang, and had stood by him.

And now Bumi was gone. Aang felt hollow inside. 

Maybe Aang should burn an offering to the winds for Bumi on his balcony? Although he knew Bumi was not an Air Nomad, and would not need or understand the significance of the ceremony, perhaps it could bring some comfort to the living? 

As Aang gently knelt next to the small brass bowl smoking with burning papyrus, sending wafts of smoke into the night sky, streams of tears ran down Aang’s face. He tried to remember the wisdom of Monk Gyatso, allowing himself to grieve: “When we grieve we are celebrating that what we had, and lost, was a good thing.” 

Aang’s friendship with Bumi had certainly been a good thing. And thus he let the tears flow while the smoke rose.

……………

Katara stood at the bow of the ship, her arms and legs sweeping gracefully forward and backward with the rhythm of the waves as the ship broke through them. She was waterbending to speed the ship through the ocean faster. The movements were not particularly taxing, but Katara had been doing them for hours on end for the past three days, and her muscles were becoming fatigued. But still she continued, her mother’s necklace back in its place on her neck as the salt sea wind blew her hair out behind her.

When she had fled from the Fire Nation to the North Pole to get away from Aang, she had done this same waterbending move, anxious to get away. Now she stood, urging the ship forward again, but this time racing toward Aang, and with double the urgency. 

They were only three days into their journey, but Katara already felt that she was much too late. Despite Katara’s best efforts to leave the North Pole as soon as possible, she had been unable to acquire passage that first day on an appropriate ship heading towards the southeastern Earth Kingdom. She had boarded a ship the following day, but Katara knew that on Appa, Aang could likely fly to Omashu in less than a week if he flew directly there. This ship, however, even with her exhausting herself waterbending the ship to go faster, would not make the closest port to Omashu in anything less than six or seven days. And then from there, she would need to travel across land to the city, which again at its quickest, would add another week to her journey. 

She silently cursed that she had not been able to catch Aang before he had flown away from the Northern Water Tribe. If only she had caught up with him, and been able to convince him to take her with him! Then they would be together now. Then she could be with Aang to support him through the death of his friend…

If he’d even want you there.

Katara’s movements stuttered slightly as the thoughts that had been pressing at the back of her mind finally forced their way to the forefront. 

You saw how he looked at you, Katara. Betrayed. Disgusted. You don’t know if he will even look at you when you get to Omashu.

Katara had to blink back tears as she remembered Aang’s reaction to her when he had woken from his injuries.

And why should he? You’ve done little more than reject him over the last five years... 

Katara thought with shame of all the times Aang had tried to fix the broken places between them, bridge their rift. And she had done nothing. She had never replied to his letters, the letters he had vulnerably written with his heart openly offered up to her on the page. Of how she had avoided him, even running from him in the Fire Nation. Of how he had followed her to the North Pole; how he had expressed his love. And she had given him little more than dismissal and a few fervent kisses before shoving him away again. 

Followed by an ice-block to the head.

Before he left she had not managed to tell him how her feelings had changed, how she had finally acknowledged to herself that she still loved him. In this moment her love for him swelled painfully, and she had trouble understanding how she had ignored it for so long, turning her back on him, trying to pretend away how her soul ached to be with him. 

She had cared too much about what others thought: her father, the gossips in town, her own unrelenting fears. She had placed her own discomfort at being vulnerable over the needs of the boy she loved. 

But that was going to change.

Katara gave the ship another burst of speed, determination on her brow. She would be there for Aang this time. She needed to be there for him.

This time she wouldn’t leave him to be alone.

…………..

Aang looked at the elaborately carved stone box. It was very large, the size of an ostrich-horse cart, complete with a heavy stone lid half a foot thick at the edges and thickening in the middle. The artistry was clearly exceptional, the work of some of the most talented earthbendering artists in the world. Outside told the story of the great King’s life. Inside was the dead King himself.

Aang had not arrived in time to see Bumi’s body. Bumi had been enclosed in this beautiful stone coffin on Day Three after he died. Aang had not arrived in Omashu until the evening of Day Eleven. They had send word to him the moment King Bumi had passed. Unsure of exactly where the Avatar was, Advisor Shi had ordered that scrolls requesting his presence in Omashu be sent to all of the major cities and Air Temples in the world. Aang supposed it was lucky he had been in the capitol of the Northern Water Tribe. If he had been in some smaller village or out in the wilderness, it would have taken much longer to find him. 

Aang moved closer to the coffin. The intricate carvings surrounding the box depicted major events in Bumi’s life: his victories in the Omashu Army early on in the Hundred Year War, his coronation, his marriage to Iralee, the birth of their two sons, more than one siege on the city by the Fire Nation that were all rebuffed by the strategies of the King. (All except the last siege, in which Bumi had spent months in a metal box just “waiting for the right moment”. But the coffin did not depict that.) However, it did have portrayals of King Bumi single-handedly taking back his city during the Day of Black Sun. Aang continued to circle the box. Other great feats and glories adorned the box, not all of which Aang understood. After all, most of Bumi’s life Aang had spent frozen under the polar ocean. Aang suddenly regretted not asking Bumi to tell him more stories from his life; although he also admitted to himself that Bumi was much more likely to tell him of his first time breaking into the Palace sewers than of the types of self-aggrandizing stories the coffin boasted. Aang did recognize the motifs of white lotus and the glorified rendition of King Bumi fighting to reclaim the great capitol city of Ba Sing Se. The way it was carved made it look as though he had done this side-by-side with Aang as he had defeated the Fire Lord; but Aang supposed it was just to show the contemporary nature of their fighting to win the same war. Truly Bumi had lived an impressive life. But something about the chosen images left Aang feeling hollow.

It was true that Bumi had been an incredible King, one who had managed to keep his city free for ninety-nine years of a one hundred year war. But Aang saw so little of the friend he knew shown on the box. Where was his ridiculous humor? And his asinine pranks? Where was the man who felt that rock candy was its own food group, or the goof who loved his gorilla-goat enough to have a giant crib built for it in his advisor’s bedroom (to keep each other company)? Where was the mad genius who had brought ‘thinking outside the box’ to a new definitive level? Aang had to admit that he had held onto Bumi’s advice to ‘open his mind to the possibilities’ when he had sought so earnestly for another way to defeat Fire Lord Ozai; he knew that Bumi would not just take what he was handed at face-value, so neither had Aang. Bumi had been a man who preferred messing with people over any real aggression, and had had the wisdom and intelligence to keep peace among his own people despite the complicated political times. Where was the love-sick young man who had a thing for crossed-eyes? Or the grieving father and grandfather at the loss of his children and only granddaughter? Where was the loyal friend who had compassionately (in his own absurd ways) supported that poor time-lost Last Airbender? 

Aang knew the Great King and the Caring Friend were one and the same, but still somehow he felt sorry that history chose to value only certain accomplishments over others.

Aang ran his hand over the image of Bumi with his wife, Iralee. Bumi would be happy to see that they got her crossed-eyes right, Aang thought with an inward chuckle. But his thoughts quickly sobered.

What would be remembered of his own life one day? Would anyone be there to share it with him? Or would no one ever know the true Aang? Would all that anyone ever remembered of him be his battle with Ozai, or his actions of political significance? Something about the thought made Aang feel suddenly very isolated. Like he could spend his whole life known by all and yet not really known by anyone.

And then he would be reborn and not even know himself.

As an Air Nomad, Aang really didn’t care much for earthy possessions. He had been taught from a young age not to set his heart upon things that would one day decay and turn to dust. Even supposed “needs” were only loosely defined as such in Aang’s book: where he laid his head was impermanent, if he didn’t have food he had been trained in the art of fasting, physical comforts were nice but not essential. But what the Air Nomads had valued was relationships. Strong and abundant relationships were currency among the Airbenders – at the Southern Air Temple Aang had had hundreds of brothers and even as a child Aang had had friends from all over the world. Aang had felt rich by loving and being loved by so many. And although he knew that he did not truly lose those relationships at death, that the love remained… some things were nice to understand in abstraction, but someone real and alive to hold was a wealth he genuinely coveted. 

Now, with his oldest friend dead and the final rejection of the girl he had always loved solidified, Aang was trying desperately not to feel impoverished. 

Aang turned away from the coffin and put on his white hooded cape over the long green robe he wore, his bare feet showing underneath when he walked. The funeral service had already been conducted, in which Aang had played a part, lighting the long five-day incense stick and reciting the final words of farewell – a role that was usually conducted by an oldest son. Aang had been honored that Bumi had asked for him to fill in for his already deceased son. Honored and sad all the same.

A long procession of the King’s body through the city was next, a procession that would end in taking his sarcophagus to its final resting spot. Everyone was ready and waiting to start the procession. But the leaders of the city had been kind to allow Aang this moment alone with his friend.

Aang sighed. It was time to say goodbye.

…………

Aang had been surprised that the funeral procession did not just include the coffin of King Bumi, but the stone box containing his wife, Iralee, had also been excavated to accompany the King. The procession had lasted for nearly two hours. Aang had been grateful for the white hood that covered his head and arrow, giving him a small sense of anonymity since all members of the procession wore the same. Not being singled out allowed Aang the luxury of just dwelling on his own thoughts, dealing with his own grief, without drawing any extra attention to himself. 

Aang had been surprised when the procession had ended far outside the city, at the entrance to the Cave of Two Lovers (the exact place where he and Katara had exited the cave all those years ago). Only seven members of the procession continued into the cave to deliver Bumi and his wife to their final tomb: four earthbending pallbearers, Advisor Shi, soon-to-be King Gu, and Aang. It had been almost ninety years since their last king had been buried here – long enough that most people had no living memory of the event, the cave having been nearly forgotten. But all the kings and queens of Omashu had been buried here, since the time of Oma and Shu thousands of years ago. Mystery and danger had purposely enshrouded the cave; to deter trespassers, to protect the royalty buried within; the Badgermoles themselves acting somewhat at sentinels and protectors.

The seven had gone torch-less, following the glowing crystals along the ceiling to deliver King Bumi and his Iralee to their final resting place together in the tomb of Oma and Shu. For Aang it felt right, for his friend and his life-long Love to be buried there together. For two great earthbenders, to be set to rest here, hidden so deeply within the heart of the mountain – there could be no greater honor.

………….

“It really is good to see you, Uncle Iroh!”

Aang had just sat down to tea at a low stone table on the floor in Iroh’s guestroom in Omashu. The old General had been a long-time friend of King Bumi; Bumi actually being the one to initially introduce Iroh to the Order of the White Lotus. The other members of the Society were extremely wary of welcoming a general from the Fire Nation into their secret network, the Fire Lord’s brother no less! But Bumi had maniacally declared that anyone who loved tea and pai sho as much as Iroh simply could not have room in his heart to love war also, so he was sure that he could be trusted. Although his reasoning had been outlandish, his gut instinct on Iroh had not been wrong. From then on, the brother to the Fire Lord and the King of Omashu had become trusted friends.

So Iroh had come to Omashu to attend his friend’s funeral. Fire Lord Zuko had been unable to personally attend, but had asked Iroh to represent him as well. So Iroh’s presence here was two-fold: as the formal representative of the Fire Nation royal family, and also as a close personal friend.

“It’s good to hear you call me that, young Aang. Who knew that when my nephew joined the Avatar, I would gain so many nieces and nephews?” Iroh laughed jovially. When Zuko had joined Team Avatar the gang got accustomed to hearing him refer to General Iroh simply as “Uncle” or “Uncle Iroh”, and so, almost without conscious intention, all of them began to refer to him as “Uncle” as well. Truth be told, Iroh loved the familiarity of the title and welcomed their collective adoption. But a smile still jumped to his lips whenever one of his water tribe, air nomad or earth kingdom nieces or nephews referred to him this way.

Iroh poured some jasmine tea for the two of them, breathing in the aroma while the tea was as yet still too hot to drink. “But of course it is an honor to be an Uncle to you, young Airbender.”

“Thank you, Uncle Iroh. But of course the honor is mine.” 

Aang seemed distracted. Three days ago had been King Bumi’s funeral and procession to the Cave of Oma and Shu. Iroh had been a member of the procession, but had not followed the late King and his wife into the heart of the tomb. However, while the seven escorts were still inside the cave, word came to the procession that TanXin was making an attempt to seize power of the city at that moment, taking advantage of the fact that most of the city’s leaders, as well at the Avatar, were out of the city burying the King.

The rebellion had not lasted long, although several Palace guards had lost their lives in the attempted coup. When Aang arrived back in the Palace, TanXin was sitting on Bumi’s throne with her own loyal guard flanking her. Disgust at her disrespect, and desiring to make short work of this problem, Aang had entered the Avatar State, sending a tremendous gust of air outward, knocking aside her guards and slamming her forcefully back into the throne. The Avatar State may have seemed like overkill, but Aang knew also of the added bonus of intimidation it evoked, her guard fleeing the scene as soon as they could regain their footing. Apprehending TanXin, and gathering most of her main supporters had not taken long, and the rebellion had been quickly squelched, but the event had disappointed Aang, bringing his spirits even lower. Aang didn’t know if he were more disgusted or just sad, that on the very day to honor their great king of 88 years, humanity would stumble over themselves to grasp for power. 

“What is troubling you, my boy?”

Aang startled, not realizing that he had become lost in thought. Turning to take a sip of the tea Iroh had offered him, Aang apologized, “Sorry Uncle Iroh, I guess I have a lot on my mind…”

“Is this about the coup? Or about the loss of your friend, Bumi? Or something else entirely perhaps?”

Aang hesitated, sifting through his thoughts to pinpoint what exactly was troubling him most. “Honestly, Uncle, I’m not sure. I guess I’m feeling unsure. I knew that this was coming; Bumi was getting weaker every time I visited. But losing Bumi has been really hard for me; like I’ve lost the last thread holding me to my past. Like I’m alone now in a way that only Appa and I can ever understand now…”

“Relationships, like all things, are unfortunately, impermanent.” Iroh took a sip of his tea, “But that does not make them any less worth the effort of creating and strengthening.”

Aang made to say something, then seeming to change his mind, clamped his mouth shut, looking with furrowed brow at the stone tea table.

“What is it you wish to say, Aang?”

Aang’s expression flickered, unsure where to start.

“I sense that something else is on your mind, perhaps a relationship other than that of our dear crazed King Bumi?” another sip of tea, “Perhaps you would like to talk about what went wrong with your recently dissolved engagement?”

Aang eyes met Iroh’s. And after another moment’s hesitation, “I realized that I didn’t feel the way about Cami that I ought to. That I still had feelings for… well, that I still loved Katara. But nothing can be done about her now. All we seem to do is hurt one another…”

“Ah yes, our dear Waterbender. The two of you always had a connection of particular strength. I must admit that I was greatly saddened when a wedge drove you apart.”

“Well, I’ve tried to fix what went wrong between us, but my efforts have always blown up in my face. She clearly doesn’t want to have any kind of connection with me any more. And I’m tired of getting hurt.” Aang unintentionally gently rubbed his still bandaged right shoulder. 

“Yes, we humans do have a tendency to hurt one another when we get close.” Iroh took another sip, “but one of our great mistakes, is to view the people in our relationships as separate from ourselves. We ought to view our relationship as one living being.”

“What do you mean, Iroh?

“Well for example, when someone hurts you, what is your immediate reaction?”

“Well, on instinct, its to fight back.”

“Yes, indeed when we are hurt we often strike back in return.” Iroh mused, “but what is your reaction to this kind of hurt?” Iroh reached out suddenly with two fingers, jabbing sharply as though he would strike Aang in his injured collarbone. Aang reflexively swiped Iroh’s hand away with his right hand, hissing slightly at the pain the movement caused; in response he turned his shoulder away, cradling the injury protectively. 

“What are you doing?!”

“Ah, but Aang, I didn’t touch you. What caused you pain?”

“My collarbone was broken and it’s still tender. Moving my arm still sometimes hurts.”

“So when your shoulder hurt you, your reaction was to shield it, protecting it from further injury?”

“Well, yeah…”

“So even though your shoulder hurts you, you do not try to hurt it back? Lashing back at the pain it gives you?”

“Of course not! That would only hurt me more.”

“And so we ought to view our relationships. Instead of lashing out to hurt those who hurt us, we ought to treat them more tenderly, handling their hurt as though it was our own, treating that other person with additional care, as we do our injured body parts. This is what I mean by our relationship being one being, one entity – that any hurt to either party hurts both.”

Aang thought about this for a moment, imagining how things with Katara could perhaps have been different if the two of them had worked more like a team, part of the same whole.

But Aang’s countenance darkened as he said, “but I guess none of that matters now anyway. Katara is getting married to that…” a sigh, “to Urik. My chance for a relationship with her is over.”

Iroh looked at Aang, a twinkle in his eye as though he knew some secret. “Oh, so you assume I am talking only about romantic relationships? No this principle can apply to nearly all of our interactions with one another. How do you think I managed to live with Prince Zuko for three years on that lone fire nation ship?” He laughed from his belly, “If I had struck back every time Prince Zuko lashed out at me, perhaps one of us would no longer be here.” He laughed again. “But no, when he was hurting and lashing out, those were the times for me to treat him with extra compassion, extra patience and care. And now what we have is a relationship that I treasure above all others…” he spoke nostalgically, pride shinning brightly in his eyes as he thought of his nephew.

Iroh continued, “Am I wrong to believe that you would like to heal the injuries in your relationship with Katara, regardless of the nature of your relationship with her?”

“I want that. Even if,” Aang closed his eyes tightly for a moment, “even if I never get to be with her again; I want us to be okay again. I miss her. As my friend as much as anything.”

Iroh hummed knowingly as he sipped his tea. 

But despite the wisdom Aang could see in Iroh’s words, Aang did not know how he could ever repair the damage his relationship with Katara had endured. Everything he had tried so far seemed just to cause more problems. Anger flared again. He wondered cynically if he really even cared to try anymore. Rejection didn’t taste good, and he was tired of eating it over and over again. 

“Thank you for your wisdom, Uncle Iroh. I guess we will just have to see…”

…………..

Katara shielded her eyes from the sun, sighing at the dust and heat of the road to Omashu. It had been five days since she had arrived at the port on the coast of the southeastern Earth Kingdom. She had immediately purchased an ostrich-horse to take her to Omashu, planning to resell it once she reached the city. If she had calculated correctly, she would arrive in Omashu by tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would find Aang. And maybe then they could finally put all the hurt behind them.

…………..


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, this is it! The last chapter of Wedges of Ice and Air. It has been an interesting journey for me to write my first fan fiction; it’s been a privilege to write about characters I care so much about. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope that you have enjoyed this journey as well! And without further ado, the conclusion…

Aang awoke early as he usually did. He had always been an early riser, a habit left over from his childhood in the temples – all the monks had awoken early to greet the sunrise and feel the shifting winds of the new day. They would all meet in the lessening grey of the soon-to-rise sun and mediate together, breathing as though they were One as the first rays of sunshine crested the horizon, falling upon their peaceful blue-arrowed brows. One of the head monks would feel the breezes for the appropriate time, and then call out the start to the ‘Receive the New Sun’ chant at which all the boys and monks would finish the chant together, take one last large breath in through their noses, and then with the sounding of the great gong, release their breath and open their eyes to see the gloriously painted sky of the new day. It was an incredibly invigorating way to start the day, centered and refreshed and ready to follow wherever the winds took them.

Bumi had been sensitive to this tradition when he had given Aang this room, the balcony thoughtfully facing east. Aang’s chant finished and his breath let out slowly, Aang imagined the sound of the gong and opened his eyes to the start of a beautiful sunrise. 

Today was Day 20 after the death of the King. According to Earth Kingdom tradition, this marked the last day of the old King’s reign. Tomorrow Gu would be crowned King of Omashu. There would be a grand ceremony, a feast and festival to celebrate. Aang had no formal role in the coronation, but he would be there, silently showing his support of Bumi’s chosen successor.

But there was still one last day of King Bumi’s reign. And Aang, acting as proxy for Bumi’s first-born son, had responsibility to go to the tomb again and preform some final sacred rites. These were not traditions of his people, but of the earth kingdom; but Aang was honored to do them for his friend, saddened again that Bumi’s own son could not preform them. The irony of the fact that Aang was technically older than Bumi (by a whole eight months, which matters when you’re ten!) struck him – he never would have thought to be a stand-in for Bumi’s son.

The beauty of this day was hard to ignore, and a light like the rising sun seemed to shine within Aang. He had mourned his friend, and he would mourn him still, but something about today felt brighter. 

Without meaning to, Aang thought of Katara. Perhaps it was because this feeling was something he had always associated with her: a buoyancy, a gleam, a broad positivity as beautiful as the rising sun. 

Aang’s shoulders sagged slightly as he sighed. It had been fourteen days since he had last seen Katara, since he had angrily left her in the healing hut in the North Pole. And he missed her. A very familiar feeling, since he had been missing Katara for the last five years.

Sometime during the Twenty Days of Bereavement for King Bumi had also marked the five-year anniversary of Aang’s expulsion from the South Pole and his agonized split with Katara. Another regret to bear during these days of mourning. He wished that the two of them had been able to mend their rift, that they could have at least left one anther as friends. But Aang had gotten unwillingly used to things not being as he wished they could be between he and Katara. He supposed he would just need to wish her well in his heart, and then let it all be.

She would marry Urik. Then he would have no choice but to turn his face to the sun and start his life again, unable to look back. Part of him yearned for that to finally happen, to just get it over with, while another other part prayed that it never would. She had infiltrated his heart when he was young, and he feared that he would never recover fully. As much as he wished otherwise, it would seem that Aang was incapable of not loving Katara.

But why?! Aang thought angrily. No one had ever hurt him as much as she had! No one had ever left him so inept with grief and regret.

But Aang knew why. It’s because she’s Katara. Katara who saved him from the ice, who believed in him when he couldn’t even believe in himself. Katara who was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen; the girl who had given him courage and confidence in the future. Katara who was kind, and compassionate, and fiercely dedicated to what she felt was right. Katara who waterbended with a grace like the element she bent, twisting and weaving like shimmering waves in the sea. Katara who was hotheaded and frustrating and made him want to pull her into his arms and never, ever let her go! 

Oh he knew why he loved her; what he couldn’t figure out was how he was ever going to stop loving her. 

Aang gathered his things. He would stop by the palace healer to have his shoulder re-wrapped again – it was feeling much better, not paining him at all unless he did something particularly strenuous with that arm, but he felt it wise to keep it wrapped for now. Then he would go to the sanctuary where Bumi’s funeral had been held to gather what he needed to perform the final ceremonies before heading to the Cave of Oma and Shu. He had other things to worry about today. 

Thoughts of Katara would have to wait.

………….

Katara had risen uncharacteristically early, before the sun had even risen over the mountains in the distance. She had traveled as long as she could the evening before (knowing that she was close!), until the darkness of the night made it unreasonable to continue. But she knew she was nearly there, just another hour or two and she would be to the great gates of Omashu! Her excitement had made it difficult to sleep, so she had risen early, eaten a quick breakfast, bathed in the stream nearby, and then continued on her ostrich-horse towards Omashu. 

When the great cone-shaped spires of the ancient city came into view just over an hour later, Katara caught her breath, a flood of relief surging through her as she spurred her ostrich-horse into a run. She didn’t have any guarantee that Aang was still there – she had now been traveling after him for fourteen days – and who knew where he was now? She thought with faltering hope to herself:

Please still be here!

…………..

“I’m sorry Katara, but Aang is not here.” 

Iroh’s apologetic reply came from behind her. The guards had not allowed Katara entrance to the palace; given the recent attempted coup and the anticipated coronation scheduled for tomorrow security was in a heightened state. But luckily, Iroh had been passing by right as Katara had been explaining to the guard (for the third time) that she needed to speak with the Avatar. Katara’s fingers had been itching at her water pouch, her desire to eliminate this obstacle herself almost outweighing her better judgment.

Katara spun around, “Oh Uncle Iroh!” then “Not here…?” her words came out softly, disappointment heavy in her voice.

“Well… not here, here. As in, not in the palace at the moment…” But Iroh’s eyes twinkled with something warm when he replied conspiratorially, “But I do know where you can find him.”

………….

As Katara climbed onto the flat sunny out-cropping, her eyes roamed the cliff face until they found the entrance to the tunnel, “the Lovers’ Cave” carved above the opening. Not far from the entrance, propped against the stone wall was Aang’s glider, his shoes placed underneath. 

Well, that’s proof that he’s here at least…

Katara approached, moving slower with each step. Here she had raced across the globe, across ocean and dusty road to find him, here she had hungered to get to him faster always faster, and yet now that she was so close, she found that she seemed to move in slow motion. 

She realized that she was afraid: afraid to walk into the dark, afraid she might not find him and become lost… 

And if she did find him, she was afraid of what he might say, what he might not say, afraid that she had already spent her last chance to gain his forgiveness. 

Suddenly she wanted to turn back, to run from here and from him. If she never saw him again, perhaps she would never have to face her fears: her fear of being vulnerable, her fear of facing the consequences of her choices, her fear of not knowing what the future held, her fear that he may not want her anymore.

Katara’s sudden desire to retreat and her burning urge to go forward battled, leaving her standing outside the Lovers’ Cave, staring into the darkness, frozen.

Suddenly images of Katara’s familiar childhood dream came to her mind: the cozy igloo filled with her children, all of them wrapped in furs by the fire, singing her own mother’s lullabies, the smells of water tribe food cooking, her faceless husband protecting them all. 

This had been a good dream, a hope that had kept her moving forward: the hope of a motherless child to one day become a mother herself, of one day recreating the innocence that war had stolen from her when as far as anyone could see in any direction, past or future, was more war.

But that dream was from before the war had ended, a feat she herself had helped to bring to pass. It was before she had seen anything of the world beyond her own tiny snow village. It was before she had tasted what true love felt like… 

And now she had grown up, seen the world, changed – and she had out-grown this dream. It was no longer the totality of what she wanted. Holding on to it was holding her back.

It was keeping her from what she really wanted. It was keeping her from Aang. 

Katara moved toward the cave’s dark opening. A sudden jolt of fear gripping her again as she thought of going in there, all alone and blind. But she removed her shoes anyway, and placed them side-by-side with Aang’s. She felt the dirt and rocks under her feet, and the cool stone wall under her hand as she walked several feet into the cool darkness. She was still afraid…

Katara took a deep breath and closed her eyes. What had those nomads said? She had to trust in love. 

She imagined her future family again (something that she still wanted desperately), but this time so much of the vision seemed to change. She couldn’t quite picture the location; were they in the snow? Or an open airy place? Or perhaps somewhere she had yet to ever see? She didn’t know. But that didn’t seem to matter now. And the children… what were they wearing? Were their heads adorned with blue beads, or perhaps shorn clean? What did they bend? She couldn’t quite picture with clarity their dark water tribe skin like she used to. But she also found, that the unknown about them felt okay. 

The only thing that was certain, in this new dream of her future, the only thing she knew that she wanted for sure, was that she wanted Aang.

The piece of her dream that she had never been able to picture clearly, the who of who she would spend her life with, was now painstakingly clear. She could picture him, tall and slim, grinning at her, that familiar sparkle of good-natured mischief in his eye, the one that kept her on her toes and made her heart flutter in anticipation. The way he would pull her close to him, adoration in his eyes right before he would kiss her, sending her mind whirling and her body aching for more. When she pictured Aang with her, her whole soul seemed to sigh and laugh in contentment while everything else would disappear, becoming unimportant. She wanted Aang to be her partner in life. Now that was clear. The rest could all change, but he must be with her. The other details blurring into darkness.

Love was brightest in the dark.

When she finally decided that Aang was her new dream for the future, not just a part of it, her future seemed to finally hum with wholeness and rightness, like finally finding the right way to make the singing bowl sing, resonating out strong and continuous. 

Katara walked further into the cave, the darkness engulfing her. She was trusting in love, and the darkness no longer scared her.

…………..

Aang entered the inner tomb of Oma and Shu. He had left his glider and shoes propped against the outer wall of the entrance to the Cave of Two Lovers. Removing his shoes was a sign of respect to the sacred Earthbenders’ cave, but also had the benefit of allowing him to see more clearly with his seismic sense. Now that he had mastered earthbending, with the added bonus of having learned “seismic sight” from the Toph Beifang herself, the cave held little danger for him. 

The funeral and procession had been public affairs, ways for the whole city to participate in honoring their King. But these last rites, the ones Aang would now conduct, were not public. These were the last private ceremonial observances of putting the King to rest.

The tomb was pitch black. Setting down the items in his hands, Aang reached out with his seismic sense. He knew there were torches mounted all along the walls of the large round room, but he hadn’t known their exact locations. But now having gotten a good “look” at the room, Aang placed his hands together, took a deep breath and began shooting small flames onto the wicks of each torch, lighting them one by one. Slowly the room began to illuminate, gradually revealing the details of the tomb. Standing paramount were the giant depictions of Oma and Shu, kneeling toward one another, kissing, their story told in pictures below the edifice. The two large stone sarcophagi of King Bumi and his wife had been placed before it in the center of the room.

But it was now time to move them into one of the alcoves around the edge of the room. This was the responsibility of the oldest son, a role Aang was filling for his friend. He had also brought what was left of the five-day incense stick that he had lit during the funeral, and a bowl of stone fruit that would be left as an offering with the deceased couple. 

Aang’s heart was heavy as he earthbended the heavy stone box containing Iralee into an alcove. Without all of the torches lit, these alcoves would not even be visible. Aang recalled from his first time in this room, with Katara when they were kids, that the two of them had had no idea of the full size and scale of the room. With just their one burning torch, they could see little more than what was immediately around them.

Aang thought with a mixture of amusement and chagrin of his bumbling attempt to act cool when Katara had suggested that they kiss. He mentally smacked himself again as he thought of how horribly he had insulted her while saying exactly the opposite of how he really felt. “I’d rather kiss you than die!” Aang hoped that he had gotten smoother since then, but then thinking back on his most recent stolen kiss with her, and her subsequent rejection… perhaps he hadn’t learned much. But his heart still panged when he thought of her. Aang wondered now if he would rather die than not kiss her…

Aang sighed and turned back to his task, earthbending Bumi’s large casket over to the space next to his wife. The tomb reverberated with a boom as the great stone casket set heavily down into its final resting place. It was as though Aang felt the sound in his chest, the echo sounding in his heart long after it had stopped reverberating in his ears. This act, placing his friend Bumi with such finality, brought tears to Aang’s eyes again, as he missed Bumi, missed Gyatso, missed all of his friends that he had lost in the genocide and to time. 

Aang brought the incense stick – the one that had continued to burn from the funeral until now, the last day of King Bumi’s reign – and the bowl of Everlasting Fruit to the alcove, kneeling and placing them with a bow before the King and his wife. His tears falling more freely.

As he thought of those he had lost, and of the woman he had wanted more than anything in this world, but did not want him in return, he felt suddenly unlovable. Like he had missed his real life sometime in the iceberg. And he would be destined to spend this life out of sync, unable to find his place. Like his life, at this time, was punishment for his cowardice as a twelve-year-old boy who had been afraid to live without Gyatso – and so his punishment is fit, here he is, living his life without Gyatso, or any of the others. All alone.

An irrational dread began to take hold of him, an icy hand of fear gripping his heart. Aang got hastily and clumsily to his feet. He needed to get out of here! Or he might be buried here himself. Buried in his own grief and isolation.

But as the panic started to take hold, the frightened need to get away. He felt something through the earth. 

He felt... her. 

His head snapped toward the door. Katara had not yet entered the burial chamber, but she was coming. Aang could feel her coming; he knew her footsteps, the shape of her body, the way her heart beat. 

And Aang froze, waiting for her to come...

…………..

Katara could see the light ahead. Although it was still some distance off, compared to the darkness of the cave lit only in the bluish light of the crystals above her, the warm yellow of the fire ahead was unmistakable. 

More and more sure of her footing as the light grew stronger, Katara’s bare feet began to move faster, bringing her closer to him. Anxiety and excitement flip-flopped in her stomach. She wanted to be with Aang so much it was almost painful, but she also knew that there was still a great chasm between them; emotionally they had a mountain’s worth of baggage to climb. But she was finally brave enough to face that, to face the results of her choices. To finally apologize to the boy she had abandoned all those years ago.

And then suddenly she was there, standing breathless in the round opening of the Tomb. She was surprised by the sheer size of the room; it was so much bigger than she ever imagined it to be when she and Aang had been here before! Her eyes darting to the great stone carving of Oma and her beloved Shu – the first Earthbenders. Suddenly the tragedy of their story struck Katara. Of how their worlds had held them apart, forbidding them from being together. And the heartbreak of it was that the world had won in keeping them apart. The war had taken Shu from Oma before peace could be found. They had never had the opportunity to love in the open, to share their lives together. And the greatest tragedy of all was perhaps that the power to change that had been in them all along. It was not until her love was lost that Oma used her earthbending to put an end to the war that had separated them. 

Katara did not want to wait until it was too late to love Aang. She wouldn’t let the world, society and its concerns, keep them apart. She would act now, before it was too late!

Katara walked to the edge of the raised entrance platform, searching in the torchlight the rest of the room below. It took Katara a moment to find Aang – he had been standing so still that she hardly noticed him off to the side at the mouth of one of the many alcoves surrounding the room. He stood statue-like, nothing but his eyes moving as they followed her decent to the lower level. 

His eyebrows were furrowed, in anger or in confusion she couldn’t tell, his eyes flicking once quickly from the betrothal necklace at her throat and then back to her face, his expression darkening slightly. The firelight from the torches danced on his skin. But still he said nothing.

Katara stopped a few feet from him, her bare toes cushioned in the soft layer of sand covering the ancient stone floor. Aang said nothing, never breaking eye contact. She began to feel uncomfortable at the intensity of his gaze. She couldn’t tell what she saw there: accusation? disbelief? relief or suspicion? She could see that he had been crying, tear trails left on his cheeks, but his eyes were dry now.

“Aang…”

Her voice seemed to shake him, like he had finally decided that she was real and not some specter of his imagination. A breath finally released from him, almost like a silent sob as he closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head minutely. But when his eyes found hers again, his gaze, if anything, was even more intense.

“Katara?... what are you doing here?”

Katara’s mouth opened, but no reply immediately came. How should she answer that question? To find you… To make sure you were okay… To tell you that I’m sorry... Tell you that I love you.

“Well, I came… I mean, well I’m here to find you.”

Aang’s stance was still too still, like he was wary of her. “Well that part seems obvious,” sarcasm tainting his words. “This isn’t exactly a place for a chance meeting.” And then with clear accusation in his tone, “You do realize I’m burring my best friend right now, don’t you?”

Katara was taken aback, “Well, yes…” she stammered, “I know. I mean… Aang I’m so sorry about Bumi… I’m sorry…”

“I don’t need your pity, Katara. One more person to pity the poor last airbender who doesn’t know when or where he’s supposed to be.” Aang looked close to tears as he stared at the ground.

“Aang! I came here to do this with you. So you don’t have to burry Bumi alone.”

“Well, forgive me if I don’t want to do this with another man’s wife!” Aang almost yelled, the last word echoing around the room, his eyes darting again to her necklace. And then more quietly, “or soon-to-be wife, anyway…”

Katara’s fingers jumped to the familiar smoothness of her mother’s necklace, realizing that in the dim lights of the torches, Aang surely couldn’t tell that she was no longer wearing Urik’s betrothal mark. 

“Aang…” she hesitated, “I’m not getting married anymore. Not to Urik anyway… I broke it off with him. This is, well, this isn’t his necklace. It’s my mother’s. The one I’ve always worn…”

Aang looked genuinely surprised, a flash of something so vulnerable and childlike in his face it almost made her want to cry. 

“Wha...? Why?” Katara could hear the hope trying hard not to bust through his cautious tone.

“Well, I have my reasons. Urik proved himself not to be the right one… but that is only part of the reason; the smaller part, actually.” She hesitated, unsure of how to continue, but taking a step towards him, “the real reason is that, well… Aang, its because of you.”

She moved another step towards him, and then another. Aang’s voice whispering, “what about me, Katara?”

“I think you know, Aang.” She was so close now, it would be difficult not to touch her.

Disbelief and hope both danced plainly on his face as Aang brought one hand up, to place it gently on her upper arm, the contact sending undue amounts of intense heat through her. She leaned forward still, moving towards him, her eyes drifting shut, her full lips parted slightly seeking his.

But then his hand stiffened on her arm, holding her back. She looked up to see that his gaze was averted from her, his eyes filling with tears, his dark eyebrows drawn and his mouth a tight angry line. 

“What do you think I am, Katara?” Aang’s voice was harsh, as he pushed her abruptly away, “your little yoyo toy?! Forgive me if I’m not up for being played with today.”

Katara was shocked. Both at his tone and his rejection. She wasn’t playing with him! She loved him! Feeling embarrassed and offended, she took a step away from him. 

“I’m not toying with you, Aang! I’m here to tell you… well, I came all this way… I followed you half-way across the world, Aang! I didn’t come all this way just to yank you around!”

“No?! Well what happened then? Urik lose interest for you? Got tired of him already, eh? I guess I should feel flattered. You didn’t drop me until we had been together for a few years already. I guess your attention span is waning, huh?”

Katara’s fists clenched. How dare he accuse her like this? And after she had just spent the last two weeks racing across the globe to be here for him?! Barely sleeping, exhausting herself!

“I don’t deserve this, Aang.”

“Don’t you? Well, what do you deserve, Katara? Poor sweet, pathetic Aang to come racing back to you like a dog when you whistle?”

And then Katara saw it. She saw it flash in his face, in how his eyebrows raised vulnerably just like when they were young, right before he turned his back on her. Looking at his trembling back, his left hand gentling massaging his right shoulder, Katara could see all the hurt that was behind these attacks. Aang was nearly breaking inside and this was all he could do to keep from cracking open right here.

Aang stumbled away from her, stopping in front of the giant stone effigies of Oma and Shu, before he sank to the ground, burying his head in his hands. 

Katara carefully approached him, her hand outstretched, wanting to touch his shoulder, but not daring to.

“I begged you to forgive me, Katara. I pleaded with you to at least let me try to mend what I had ruined.” Aang’s eyes glistened with hurt tears as he turned his intense gaze on her, “How could you let me beg like that?” He spat out angrily, the torches flaring on the walls, “With no reply at all!”

She had no good answer for him. She knew she had messed up. That she was as much to blame, if not more so, for the way things had become between them.

He looked down at the floor in front of him. “I loved you. And you just… didn’t… love me.”

Katara’s heart nearly broke. She knew that she deserved this. He was right. She had not been fair with him. She was a terrible person.

“Aang,” she began tentatively, not knowing how to possibly begin fixing this kind of pain, “I’ve hurt you. I never meant to, but I know that I have. And I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Again with the pity, Katara. I don’t want it!”

“No! You will listen to me, Aang!” her voice flaring, “This isn’t pity. This is pain. Pain that we share. Because in hurting you, I have hurt myself too. And I never meant to hurt anyone. I was just so confused, and lonely, and…” her chin began to quiver as she tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to burst. “I loved you too, Aang! I loved you with so much intensity that it scared me. And I was afraid… afraid that you would stop loving me, that you would find someone else… there you were, off in the world, doing all those wonderful things. And I was just home, just missing you all the time. Hearing things about all the pretty girls that wanted to be with you. And… and I let my insecurities convince me,” she was crying openly now, “that I was safer without you, that we couldn’t work. My Dad was sure of it. That our differences had doomed us before we could really even get started…” 

Katara sank to her knees behind him. Her hands clasped, wringing together in her lap. 

“…and I was just so afraid, Aang. Afraid of losing you, of losing myself, my culture, of losing my future before it even happened… And I let my fears convince me that I shouldn’t be with you, that I didn’t even deserve to be with you.”

Aang was looking at her now, his expression battling between empathy and caution. 

“But I knew that if I couldn’t have you, then I couldn’t have any contact with you at all. I hoped that if I just ignored you, pretended not to feel how I feel for you, then I could finally be strong and the love would all go away…”

Aang had turned now, facing her on his knees as well. The two unintentionally mirroring the giant images of Oma and Shu.

“That’s why I never replied to your letters. That’s why I didn’t meet you on Kyoshi. And that’s why I’ve been trying to run away from you ever since seeing you again in at Zuko’s palace!”

Aang put his hand out to her, placing it gently on hers, calming her twisting hands and calling her eyes up to his as she confessed, “It’s because I still love you, Aang! And there is nowhere in the world that I can run to get away from this incredible ache in my heart. This horrible… emptiness, from not being with you!”

Katara blinked up at the ceiling, her blue eyes shining with tears, “and I’m afraid now that I have ruined it all. That what I have done to you has been so… inexcusable, that you can never forgive me, never allow me back in your life, never love… ”

But Aang softly shushed her as he brought both his hands up to her face, pulling her gaze down to meet his. His dark eyes searched hers, looking closely for something. Then he gently swept his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away her tears while his fingers tunneled into the hair at the nape of her neck. Tenderly he pulled her closer, cradling her head against his chest, one hand still in her hair, the other pulling her into his strong, caring embrace. Katara wrapped her arms around his waist and cried; sobbing as this kind, compassionate, forgiving boy held her up.

Still holding her, Aang spoke quietly, “I would never stop you from being yourself, Katara.”

She could only hold him closer, sniffling, “I know…”

“Neither you, nor I, would lose ourselves by being together. I believe we would find our best selves together. You’re culture, my culture, they don’t have to be at odds with one another. We can choose to take what we want of each, creating something new, making our own culture.”

She simply nodded against his chest, unable to speak, relishing being held like this, breathing in his scent and the calming peace he brought. She had not felt this complete since… well since when they were together before. And it was like coming home and finding herself all at once. Like finally being where she was always meant to be.

“Katara?”

She regretfully lifted her head off his chest to look at him, his fingers still in her hair, his palm on her cheek. Aang’s eyes penetrating when he spoke.

“I want you to know how sorry I am, for leaving you alone so much. I was young and stupid, and I didn’t know. I didn’t know how I was hurting you, making you doubt my feelings for you.” Aang had to swallow hard before he could get the next words out, “And I’m sorry for… striking you that day. Seeing you hit the ground, from my wind…” a tear streamed down his face, “I couldn’t imagine how I’d done that, that I would hurt you. I’ve never regretted anything so much… I’ve never felt so alone…”

Katara reached up with her own soft hand, wiping the tear from his cheek, a glimmer of water still clinging to his thick dark lashes. 

“We’ve both hurt one another, Aang… and I forgive you. If you can ever forgive me?” she asked with a teary smile. 

Aang groaned and tilted his forehead onto hers, “Of course I forgive you, Katara!” his expression giving her no doubt of his complete sincerity. 

But before he could say more she pulled back and pierced him with her shining blue eyes, “I am letting go of my fear of what a future with you, what our future together, will hold, Aang. But the forces that challenge our relationship are still outside that cave right now. My father, for one, may have to choose between accepting you, and losing me; and I know there will be more challenges that will try to pull us apart.”

“But I want you to know that I know what I want. And now that I know, you won’t ever need to fear that I will abandon you ever again! I’m here for you now, and always! Because what I want more than anything is you, Aang. …If you’ll have me?” Aang let out a mirthless laugh at the absurdity of her question. 

“Aang, Sweetie, my life, and your life – they are meant to be One! And I will not let anything else ever divide us again!”

Suddenly Aang let out a sob and brought his lips to hers, kissing her hungrily; Katara returning his kisses with equal vigor.

One of Katara’s knees slid between his in an effort to get closer to him, and he sat up from his heels, pulling her up as well so their bodies were flush together, his forearm wrapped all the way around her lower back and holding her hip. Aang’s other hand tilted her head just so, to get a better angle at her seeking mouth. Katara grasped his shoulders, wrapping her arm around his neck, pulling him closer to her. 

And thus they knelt facing one another, kissing; like Oma and Shu flickering in the firelight behind them.

…………

Sometime later, the two found themselves stepping out of the inner tomb, as if with New Life. There was still plenty to work out between them, misunderstandings to understand, injuries to heal, apologies to give and accept; but for now, this was enough. Aang earthbended the great round stone back across the threshold, leaving behind the pain of what had once been, and walking out of the tomb, the pair’s bond reborn. 

Moving together through the tunnel of the Two Lovers, arms wrapped around one another, Aang and Katara once again followed the blue crystal path lighting their way ahead. Laughing and stopping for more kisses as they went, Aang thought with delight that love truly did shine brightest in the dark.

Aang couldn’t help but think back to his first kiss with Katara, here in this very place, their lips barely touching, but the sensation sending electricity through him nonetheless. 

And so he pulled Katara to him again, testing out another kiss, this time kissing her with much more confidence, and then bending to nibble under her ear while she tipped her head back and laughed. Yup, still felt like electricity!

Then sobering slightly, Aang wondered if this was somehow Bumi’s doing. In his last day as King, perhaps Bumi’s spirit had somehow arranged for them to reunite. Aang couldn’t imagine that Bumi would want anything more than this happiness for his friend; for Aang to finally find (again!) his own Iralee!

Aang's mind then turned back to the day months ago, that he had spent cleansing his chakras near the Southern Air Temple, and of the vision that had unfolded to him. In the vision he had been wearing his finest Air Nomad robes, the fabric light and pleasant on his skin, heavy wooden beads hanging from his neck. A wedding altar had appeared before him and he had knelt before it. The altar had had a space for someone to kneel across from him, and take his hand, but there had been no one there. When he had looked about, he had seen Katara in a beautiful dress of water tribe blue in the distance; his heart had lurched for her, and he had run after her. 

Emotion now caught in his throat, as he knew in his heart that one day Katara would kneel across from him at the altar, and take his hand. And there they would pledge their lives to one another forever. He would then never have to face this life without her love again. They would be a family, and he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

Right now, however, they would just take their time leaving the cave. Getting sidetracked with happy flirtations and distracting kisses; in absolutely no hurry to leave. But eventually, they would step out into the light, turning their faces toward the sun. And hand-in-hand, they would face the rest of their lives together.

………

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have read this all the way through, please take the time to leave a comment. I'd really appreciate hearing your thoughts! Take care!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fiction. Please let me know what you think!


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